Loose Ends
by antilogicgirl
Summary: [AU]Hitmen, intrigue, murder, romance in New York City. Two powerful crime families constantly fight. Their children are to be married, and a murder is committed. How do you pick up the pieces when the world falls apart? SakuraX?
1. Control

**A/N:** Okay. This is one of those odd stories that I do every now and again. I seem to like doing AU. But I also seem to really be decent with it most of the time. Anyhow. I'm posting this, even though I'm not done writing it. Guess I need someone to tell me I'm not nuts for writing it. Or that I reall am, and get it over with. Anyway, on to the warnings!

**FL--Foul language!**

**V--Violence!**

**Legal Stuffiness:** I do not own Naruto, or any of the characters therein. Kishimoto Masashi, sole proprietor.

* * *

**Loose Ends

* * *

**

**Chapter 1:** Control

* * *

Hatake Kakashi hated loose ends. In fact, he despised them. His shrink had told him that leaving things unfinished was emotionally dangerous. Well, in his line of work, it could be hazardous to his health. Loose ends were like the old girlfriend that called you at the worst times, or the cut that would heal if you could just stop picking at the scab. Leaving loose ends would inevitably come back to bite you in the ass. These were his thoughts as he snuck into a penthouse apartment one warm September night. 

The stars were out, shining with all of their twinkling glory, but it was the night of a waning crescent moon, so the chances of him being seen were slim to none. The thing that grated on his nerves about this job in particular was that he was being _forced_ by his contract to leave a loose end. It took less than two minutes to pick the lock, even with the obligatory latex gloves. Once his kit was safely stashed in his back pocket, he silently opened the door.

After slipping inside, and disarming the alarm with the code provided him, he proceeded through the richly furnished living area and down the hallway to the bedroom. He found the two people occupying the bed sleeping soundly. There were clothes littering the floor, and a telltale scent in the air that said the two young people had made love not long before. He smiled a bit at the irony.

Identifying which was male, and which female, Kakashi proceeded around the left side of the bed, and pulled out a slender knife. He had cleaned it thoroughly with bleach before he left his apartment, making sure that none of his DNA, nor any fingerprints were on it. Upon approaching the sleeping young man, he saw that the kid was smiling—or perhaps smirking—in his sleep. In the end, he hoped that he could die that way, too. Maybe not in precisely the same way, but with a smile on his face, nonetheless.

Knife in position, he swiftly grabbed the young man's forehead for leverage, and drove the point of the blade home, right between his first and second cervical vertebrae. There had been no struggle, no, the bed had not even shaken. Only the slightest pop was heard when the point of his instrument penetrated the muscles around the young man's spine. It was hardly audible. That was why, when he looked away from the smile still on the young man's lips, he was exceedingly surprised to see the other occupant of the bed sitting up, staring at him with a look of complete horror in her eyes.

He was very glad that he had decided to wear a ski-mask. At least she wouldn't be able to finger him in a line-up. Quickly weighing his options, he decided on a less violent way of sending her back to sleep. Out of the front pocket of his jeans, he pulled a small cloth-covered ampoule of chloroform. Once he had crushed it between his fingers, he moved around the bed and covered her mouth and nose with his hand, forcing her to breathe in the vapors. Only then did she really begin to struggle.

In a hissing whisper, he said, "Sleep now." Her eyes—green or blue, he wasn't sure—began to droop shut, her struggles ceasing, and he smiled behind the mask. "There's a good girl." Her eyes were completely closed after a moment, her breathing even, and he stuffed the cloth back into his pants pocket, laying her pale-haired head down. Then, he made sure that there were no fibers under her fingernails from when she had clawed at the light jacket he had worn. One could never be too careful.

Just before he left the room, he surveyed the scene. The young man's pillow was now soaked with his blood, and the girl was fast asleep. Starlight and a little pale moonlight washed out all color from the room, making it seem like a scene from an old black and white mobster movie. Again, he smiled behind his mask at the irony of the situation.

On his way out, he left the door open. The sooner someone discovered what happened, the better. As soon as the hit made headlines, he would be paid. And that, ladies and gentlemen, was what he lived for.

* * *

"9-1-1. What's your emergency?" 

"He's dead! Some bastard killed him!"

"Miss, please calm down. Who's dead?"

"My fiancé. Somebody snuck in and killed him, then the son of a bitch knocked me out!"

"Please stay calm, Miss. I'm going to send the police and paramedics over, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you, ma'am…"

* * *

Haruno Kosuke smiled. He held in his hand the New York Times, and on the very front page was a large picture of a very handsome fair-skinned young man with black hair, and the headline: "Son of Crime Boss Slain". Of course, he wished that he could take credit for this, but it hadn't been his idea. His beloved wife, Ami, had disliked Uchiha Sasuke from the very start. The fact that he was the second son of Kosuke's rival, Uchiha Fugaku, was quite beside the point. The little bastard was controlling, and had far too much influence over his baby girl. 

So, when Ami had come up with the idea to hire an independent hit man to get rid of the thorn in their side, he welcomed it with open arms. A knock sounded on the door to his study, and he said, "Come," before the door opened, admitting a tall man in his early thirties. The man wore a pair of faded blue jeans, a dark blue t-shirt, and a New York Yankees baseball cap over hair that seemed to be prematurely gray. "Ah, come and have a seat, Mr. Hatake."

"Can't stay. Things to do." The younger man's voice was curt, but Kosuke nodded.

"Straight to business, eh?" That was fine with him. Frankly, the guy gave him the fucking creeps. Opening a drawer on the right side of the desk, he pulled out a large envelope, which he handed to his guest. "It's all there. Thank you for your services. If I have need of you again—"

The hit man was on his way out of the door already, stuffing the envelope into the black leather messenger bag over his shoulder. He stopped and turned to look back at him, those oddly mismatched eyes sending a chill through the elder man's entire body. "If you need me, call Genma. He'll set things up." With that, the man was gone. Kosuke doubted that he would be seeing him again. He hoped he wouldn't.

* * *

Thirty thousand dollars for…fifteen minutes of work? Kakashi could definitely deal with that. Outside the Haruno mansion, he straddled his motorcycle, stuffing his cap into his messenger bag. After fastening the chinstrap on his helmet, he started the engine, listening to the satisfying roar. A smile slid across his lips as he gave it a bit of gas, propelling himself down the drive. One stop, then he could deposit the money. He had to give Genma his cut. The guy was, after all, his middleman, and did deserve some compensation for screening his clients. 

The only thing that Kakashi didn't like about working with Genma was the fact that the guy was too nice. Well, that is, he was too nice with the cops. His best friend was a member of the organized crime task force on the NYPD, and one day, that would land him up Shit Creek without a paddle. Oddly enough, the cop seemed to be utterly blind to the fact that his best buddy was not just an antique weapons dealer.

Ten minutes on his bike brought him to Genma's shop in Soho. The place was a bit ritzy for a guy from Queens, but he didn't begrudge Genma his success. The bastard was good with those swords he played with, and knew his shit, so in Kakashi's mind, he deserved to be able to make a living at what he was best at. It was the same for him, really. Kakashi was good…no, he was _excellent_ at killing people, sneaking in and out of places unnoticed. And he got paid a _lot_ of money for it. That is, until he decided to retire.

Until that time, he would keep on killing people. His life was rather simple.

The little bell above the door made a tinkling noise as he entered the shop. Genma was sitting on a stool behind the counter, playing with what looked like a dagger. He looked up, and smiled broadly at Kakashi, that damned toothpick sticking out of his mouth. "You're going to choke on one of those things some day," Kakashi said by way of a greeting.

"Good morning to you, too. Saw the papers. Clean work as usual, pal." Genma cocked his head to the side. "You look tense."

Had the man not been right, Kakashi would have contemplated knocking him on his ass for that remark. But as it was, he shrugged it off lazily and said, "You got any coffee?" Genma laughed, and told him to lock the door and put out the 'Closed' sign, then they went into the back room. Sitting down at the table with a cup of double espresso and scratching his chin in a rather irritated fashion, he looked at Genma and said, "I had to leave someone alive."

"So? That was part of the contract. You knew about it when you took the job." Genma was having cappuccino, which Kakashi thought was no more than frothy milk with coffee flavor in it.

"She saw me."

"And? You were wearing a mask. Not like she can pick you out of a crowd." Genma's logic was difficult to argue with, but he still found himself unwilling to let it go. He hated leaving loose ends. He really, really hated it. "Calm down, idiot. For someone who's as smart as you're supposed to be, you really can be a little stupid." Kakashi simply growled and drank his coffee. There were times when Genma really pissed him off. Of course, he had been to see his shrink often enough to know why it angered him: he did not take kindly to having his faults pointed out.

"Fine. Just don't call me an idiot." He didn't feel any better about that absolutely _nagging_ loose end, but he was going to have to live with it.

* * *

The day of the funeral, it rained. It was as if the heavens had opened up, and were pouring out all of the sorrows that the people standing huddled together on that lonely hill were feeling. In the midst of all the black and gray stood one bright spot. The Uchiha family all seemed to be pale, and have black hair. Just like the young man they had come here to bury. The bright spot was the only person not belonging to the family. She wore black just like the rest of them, but she couldn't help the color of her hair. Flamingo pink stood out against the pallor of her face and the black cloth of everyone's clothes as she knelt next to the casket. 

Haruno Sakura was a very smart girl. She knew that her marriage to Sasuke would have united two of the largest and most powerful families of organized crime in the country. But that was definitely not why she was going to marry him. Ever since she was a small girl, she had thought of him as quiet, thoughtful, and even sad. It was only in the past few years—after she met him again in college—that she was able to see behind that. He was a beautiful person: passionate, creative, and intelligent. Sakura had loved him.

She still loved him. And as she rested her cheek on the slick, wet surface of the casket, letting herself get soaked by the rain and not giving a damn about it, she made a silent vow to him. She would, if she ever came across that knife-wielding, chloroform-using sack of shit that killed him, she would make the bastard beg for death before the end. The same went for the son of a bitch that he worked for. Finally, she lifted her cheek away from the wood, and placed a white rose on the top of the casket. When she hauled herself to her feet, the family made way for her. Sakura walked, though she surely didn't know where she was going.

Somehow, she found herself sitting about half a mile away, on a bench, under a willow tree. Weeping willow. The water collected in the leaves of the tree, falling on her with renewed vigor as the wind picked up. Even the trees were crying for Sasuke, today. Her breathing became erratic, and the sobs that had not come when she was within view of the hole in the ground where they were undoubtedly laying her fiancé to rest now made themselves known. Sakura cried hot, salty tears that mixed with the rain, forming a bitter concoction: grief.

She got up from the bench, and paced. The anger that had begun to set in when she was near the grave was rushing full-speed through her veins now. Sakura wanted to hit something. She wanted to pound her small fists into something until it broke. Would that make her feel better? In her dazed, grief-stricken mind, she thought that it might.

* * *

It was a good thing that his eyes were 20/20. Otherwise, he would have lost that pink spot when she walked away through the haze of driving rain. His father had been worried about her, and sent Itachi to make sure that she got home safely. Sakura had been pacing for about ten minutes, now. She muttered—and at times screamed—obscenities that he had not been aware a well-bred young woman would ever have known. Personally, he wasn't too surprised that his brother had been killed. It was no secret that the boy had some enemies. This fact did nothing to lessen his grief, however. 

Itachi sincerely hoped that he was wrong about who had taken the hit out on his brother. If he were indeed correct, it would mean war. Sakura had just sat down on the bench. He walked slowly over to her, making sure that he let his footsteps be heard. Her eyes were bloodshot when she looked up at him. "Itachi…" Sakura's face made him pause for an instant. One of his cousins had thought for some time that the girl was simply marrying Sasuke so that the two families would be united, and stop fighting. That assumption was blown out of the proverbial water now. She might not have cried when she was standing there with the family, but she was certainly making up for it now.

When he approached her, Sakura flung her arms around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder. It was things like this that Itachi had trouble dealing with. Emotional females…always difficult. So he awkwardly put his free arm around her, and patted the girl's back. She was soaked to the skin. "Hey, it's going to be okay." She sniffled and looked up at him, reminding him of the little girl he had seen years ago, hiding behind a see-saw and stealing glances at his little brother as he played in the sand box in the park. "Come on, Sakura. I'll take you home."

"Okay. Just…don't leave me alone. I don't want to be alone. Not there." Her voice was so small, Itachi blinked. It wasn't often that his emotions were triggered. He had trained himself to avoid that sort of thing years ago. But the sound of her voice made something in his chest tighten. Pity? That had to be it. Sakura was certainly pitiable at the moment. She refused to use the umbrella, saying that he should stay dry, and so they walked to his car.

Once the door was closed, and the two of them were alone in a confined space, an awkward silence settled over them. Sakura would do nothing but look out at the rain, but Itachi could tell that she wanted to say something. He wasn't going to push, so he just started driving. The two of them sat in silence, apart from Itachi's occasional irritated grunt at the amount of traffic there was on a Sunday afternoon.

* * *

When they made it up to her apartment, Sakura flipped on the lights warily. The place seemed empty, which was good. At least the crime scene tape was gone. There were flowers everywhere. Lilies, mostly. Sympathy bouquets, delivered by the truckload from the entire Uchiha family. She was well-liked by the family, it seemed. Sakura threw her purse under the antique pier table and stumped into her living room. It looked different now. Even with all of the beautiful flowers, the place seemed devoid of color. She sighed. 

"Go and get changed into something dry, Sakura. I'll make some tea." Sakura smiled in spite of herself. Itachi liked his tea. Honestly, she would have preferred something _a lot_ stronger, but she wasn't going to say that around him. If he knew that she was planning on drinking herself into a stupor, he would probably call her mother. And right now, she did not want to see any member of the Haruno family. She had suspicions about them that were not what she wanted to dwell on right now.

Nodding, she entered the bedroom with trepidation. Then she thought of what Sasuke would say about her not being able to set foot in her own bedroom, and she strode boldly to the closet. After pulling fresh clothes from a few hangers and retrieving clean underwear and socks from the chest of drawers, she then proceeded to the bathroom, where she took a quick shower.

The hot water felt good, and she suddenly realized how cold she had gotten. That didn't make much sense, with it being the dog days of summer. After boiling herself for about five minutes in the shower, she dried herself and dressed, returning to the living room, where Itachi was already sipping his tea. The scent of Earl Grey filled her nose. Like his brother, Itachi seemed to know how to make her calm down. She saw a cup on the coffee table, and sat on the long sofa, taking it up and leaning on the arm opposite where Itachi sat.

"Will you be returning to school tomorrow?" This question was asked as Itachi set his cup on the saucer sitting on his thigh. "If you need, I can call your professors. A couple days off of school might be good for you."

Smiling slightly around the rim of her teacup, Sakura felt grateful for his concern, but once she had taken a sip of the hot liquid, she said, "No, I'll go back. I have to. Sasuke would be laughing at me if he saw me sitting alone and getting all bitter. I'm going to go back, and I'm going to graduate next December." Was it just her, or did she sound a little desperate? Sakura had hoped to make her voice determined, but it hadn't really come out as she planned. Thinking for a few moments, she put down her cup. "Hey, Itachi?"

"Hm?" He mumbled around his teacup.

"Don't you study martial arts or something?" His eyes widened, and he set his teacup down in surprise, the porcelain clinking sharply.

Brow furrowing, he said, "Yes, I've been studying aikido for about fifteen years. Why?"

Hm. Now, the question was, how did you answer a question like that—asked by a man whose IQ was nearly twice your own—and _not_ sound like you were lying through your teeth. "Well," she said hesitantly, "this situation makes me feel a little helpless. I just need to feel like I have a little control, you know?" His face returned to its usual implacable calm. Sakura was nothing if not a quick thinker.

Itachi seemed relieved. Why, she wasn't sure. But, he sipped his tea again before saying, "If you like, I can give you the name of my old sensei. He's not taking students right now, but if I talk to him, he might make an exception."

That surprised Sakura. "Why can't you teach me?"

That alarmed look flitted across his face again, but was gone so quickly that she wasn't sure it had been there in the first place. Instead, he wore a ghost of a smile. "I'm not a good teacher, Sakura. You wouldn't like me much after only a couple of lessons."

Now Sakura's feminist side was kicking in, and she bristled, just like she did when Sasuke would make a reference to women being weak in some way or another. "Are you saying that you think I couldn't handle it?" Her teacup was placed on the table, and her eyebrow rose a fraction of an inch, indicating the danger he was in.

"Oh, I _know_ you couldn't. Besides, you have homework and term papers. I would require more practice of you than you would be able to give." He seemed to be trying to dissuade her, but she had made up her mind. He was _going_ to teach her, she knew that much. She just had to blackmail, con, or persuade him into actually doing it. Sakura tried begging, no luck. Offering to pay him only made him snort.

Her temper was starting to rise. What was it going to take? "Come on, Itachi. Just teach me. I'm a fast learner, I promise. And it isn't like I sleep much. I could turn the back half of the living room into a dojo and practice here." Finally, without having any other resources at her disposal, she resorted to the only thing that had _ever_ worked on an Uchiha man. Sakura turned on the puppy-dog eyes. Just a little. She'd never tried them on Itachi, so there was no telling what the result would be.

Just for the record, Sakura had the biggest, greenest eyes of any person in New York State. When she turned on full-strength puppy-eyes, there was no criminal hardened enough to resist them. The girl was, therefore, careful as to how she used that little 'gift' with those who had never had the experience before. Of course, with Uchiha Sasuke, those eyes had been ludicrously effective, but his older brother was a different story altogether. He began to laugh. It was quiet at first, just a little chuckle. But soon, it built up to being a rolling, belly-laugh that echoed through her apartment. That really made her angry.

"S-Sakura…" He was wiping tears from his eyes now, and she seethed. "You're funny when you make that face! Don't do that again, okay? It hurts to laugh." Her face melted into a sullen frown, and she looked away from him. He sobered quickly, and said, "Now you're pouting, Sakura. If I say that I'll teach you, will you stop?" Now that was surprising. Somehow, she never expected that he would give in so easily. Sakura had expected that she would have to nag him for weeks.

She nodded, and took up her cup again. "Thank you Itachi."

Looking at her from the corner of his eye, and with a tiny smile on his lips that reminded her quite painfully of Sasuke, he said, "That's Itachi-sensei, to you."

* * *

Kakashi lay on a leather couch, feeling rather comfy. He wasn't at all sure why, but he felt quite at home in this room. Warm wood panels, dark leather furniture, and a very attractive woman sitting opposite him were only a few of the reasons he could have thought up, but none of them really hit the mark. "So, Mr. Hatake," Dr. Yuuhi Kurenai began, those cinnamon-colored eyes looking at him intently, "what seems to be the problem? Today's Monday. Your sessions are usually on Thursdays." 

His eyes strayed to the pen in her hand, as it wrote down the date, time, and his name. She had beautiful hands. When the pen stopped its motion, he resumed his inspection of her face. Dark, wavy hair fell down to her shoulders, and her suit made her look like she had stepped out of a 1940's movie, like Casablanca, or anything starring Elizabeth Taylor. "I'm having a little bit of a hard time…letting something go."

"Such as?"

"Something left unfinished, doc. Only it isn't really unfinished. It only seems that way." She gave him a confused look before the pen began moving again, and he watched it. Briefly, he wondered if she had been an orchestra conductor in a previous lifetime. That was how much grace her hands had. "I don't know what's wrong with me. It was part of my job, and I was not supposed to do this one thing. But it just seems to me that it was wrong not to."

"Hm. Mr. Hatake, do you remember what we talked about the last time you were here?"

Kakashi nearly snorted. "You mean my control issues?"

"No, Mr. Hatake." Her eyes were staring into his soul, he could tell. "I'm talking about your _obsession_ with being in control. It isn't healthy. You should try to let go. Do something fun to reward yourself for being able to."

"I'm not a dog, doc. Conditioning myself won't work."

"How do you know until you try?"

"Because I just do!" He sat up angrily, gripping his knees. "I know myself better than anyone else. I should. I'm me!" That seemed to disappoint the woman, who sat back in her chair, a defeated look on her face. He scrubbed his fingers through already wild silvery hair. "Sorry doc. I just…how am I supposed to do this?" No, letting go was _not_ his strong suit. Killing people? Without batting an eye. Theft? Oh, sure. Money laundering? Every time he had a job. But letting go of a mistake? Never.

"Just repeat after me."

"Okay."

"God, give me the ability—"

"I don't believe in God, doc."

"Just repeat after me, Mr. Hatake." Again, she began her little mantra. "God, give me the ability to change those things I can…" He repeated those words, so calm and soothing, "…the strength to bear those I cannot…" again he parroted the psychologist, finding himself swept up in the wave of calm that she exuded, "…and the wisdom to know the difference." At last, he saw the point of this. She was working on his ability to accept failure. In essence, he was sure that was the root of the problem. He hated being bad at anything. And he certainly did not like failing. Anything left undone, any loose end, he saw as a failure. So, would her little mantra be able to help him? Hell, it was worth a shot.

Just as he thought this, the little bell went off, and she stood. "Time's up for now. Should I expect you on Thursday, Mr. Hatake?"

"No, I think I'll try that little thing out."

"That's good. Call me if you need to come in, okay?" She ushered him out of the office with a smile, as always. No matter how angry he got during his sessions, she always smiled at him. How could someone stay so fucking _calm_ all of the time? She had to be on drugs. But he knew she wasn't. He only wished that she was. Then, he could know that she was human. Yuuhi Kurenai was not human. She was an angel. An angel that charged more than most high-priced hookers, and never gave him any. Not that he wanted her—never in a sexual way. But he would have liked to sit and have a beer with her. She seemed like the kind of broad he could really talk to, even in a non-shrink kind of way.

It was raining when he got downstairs. Cursing under his breath, he got on his motorcycle, feeling the water soaking through his pants, shirt, everything. He rolled down the street at a moderate pace, careful not to go too fast in the rain. Upon reaching his building, he drove directly into the freight elevator, and then mashed down the button. Kakashi cut the engine, and when he reached his floor, walked the bike to his door. When he put the key in the lock, it turned easily. That would not guarantee access, though. The brick wall had a metal plate bolted into it, which swung out, and revealed a hand-print and retinal scanner.

When he had been scanned, the door's lock disengaged completely, then he slid it open, and shut again behind himself. The motorcycle was left in the corner, and Kakashi proceeded directly to his bathroom, where he stripped off his clothing and got into the shower.

Just when he got under the spray, he heard the buzzer for the door. Rolling his eyes, he shoved his wet hair out of his face and snatched up a towel on the way out of the room. He went to the intercom box at his door, and pushed the small white button. "What?" He sounded decidedly annoyed, but he figured if it was important, whoever it was wouldn't mind.

"Oi, baka! Open up!" Kakashi cringed at the sound of the grating feminine voice that belonged to the only member of his family willing to acknowledge that he was still alive. Yamanaka Ino was his second cousin on his mother's side, and since she was a little girl had for some reason or another taken it upon herself to make him be social.

"Ino, I'm supposed to be showering."

"No problem. I can wait once I get inside. Come on, you idiot! It's pouring!" He rolled his eyes again, but pressed the button that would open the front door. After waiting a few minutes, he let her in and made sure that the door was firmly shut behind her. "What's your problem, Kakashi? You're all pissy today."

"Shut up Ino. I'll be out in a few minutes." He began walking back to the bathroom.

"Take your time! I've got _all night_." Her voice echoed off of the brick walls, and the high ceilings of his loft, making him groan to himself.

Ten minutes later, he was wearing house pants and his bedroom slippers, along with an old gray t-shirt, and sitting across from Ino, who was trying to get him to go out on the town with her. "No. I'm staying in tonight. I'm tired."

"But…oh, please, Kakashi? When was the last time we had a drink together?"

"On your twenty-first birthday, three months ago. And it was more than a few drinks. I seem to remember you puking your guts out in the alley when we left the bar." It was true, and Ino didn't remember it clearly, that was for sure. All she knew was the she had a damned good time, in spite of the fact that her older cousin was a total drag for the majority of his earthly existence. Or, at least that's what Ino said. Kakashi _liked_ his life. He was a relatively private person, which was fine with him. All he wanted, especially at the moment, was to be left alone by idiotic blondes.

"No. I'm not going to let you tell me no. Either you come out with me, or you're going to rue the day you ever met me."

In a bland tone, he said, "I already do, Ino. I already do."

Now his cousin was angry. He looked at her, an amused smile on his face, and watched her fume. She sat for long moments, staring at him, finally standing to leave, saying she would be back the next week. Ino also said that he was an asshole who didn't deserve her kindness. When the door shut, and automatically locked behind her, he couldn't help but laugh.

* * *

**A/N:** Well? I know it isn't like my usual stuff. Hope you like it anyway. 


	2. Losing Control

**A/N:** Hey, guys. I finally got this chapter finished in editing! I hope you like it. If you have any questions, lemme know. Here, we introduce a new character! Newbie: Iruka. He's a cop! Things to have fun with in the chapter: drunk Kakashi, drunk Sakura, and a bunch of other stuff that I won't mention, because you just have to read it!

** Warnings**:

** FL--**Foul language...Sakura's got a very dirty mouth...

** L--**Well, it isn't a lemon, but I figure since it nearly gets there, I ought to mention that sex is somewhere in there.

** Legal Stuffiness:** I do not own Naruto, or any of the characters therein. Kishimoto Masashi, sole proprietor, and he owns my soul.

* * *

**Loose Ends

* * *

**Last time... 

"But…oh, please, Kakashi? When was the last time we had a drink together?"

"On your twenty-first birthday, three months ago. And it was more than a few drinks. I seem to remember you puking your guts out in the alley when we left the bar." It was true, and Ino didn't remember it clearly, that was for sure. All she knew was the she had a damned good time, in spite of the fact that her older cousin was a total drag for the majority of his earthly existence. Or, at least that's what Ino said. Kakashi _liked_ his life. He was a relatively private person, which was fine with him. All he wanted, especially at the moment, was to be left alone by idiotic blondes.

"No. I'm not going to let you tell me no. Either you come out with me, or you're going to rue the day you ever met me."

In a bland tone, he said, "I already do, Ino. I already do."

Now his cousin was angry. He looked at her, an amused smile on his face, and watched her fume. She sat for long moments, staring at him, finally standing to leave, saying she would be back the next week. Ino also said that he was an asshole who didn't deserve her kindness. When the door shut, and automatically locked behind her, he couldn't help but laugh.

* * *

**Chapter 2:** Losing Control 

One year and six months later…

Itachi winced. The pain in his ribs was worse, but it was nothing compared to the searing agony that was his shoulder as he lay there on the floor. Sakura stood over him, smiling. Fast learner, indeed. He had always known that she was a smart girl, and that she was dedicated to any study she decided to undertake, but this…only a month after Sasuke's funeral, they'd begun training.

The actual martial arts came after three months of intensive two-hour-long sessions of yoga every day of the week. When it actually did begin, Sakura got frustrated easily, but soon learned to use the calm she had gained from the yoga to her advantage. Hence, her rapid learning curve. And hence, Itachi found himself lying on the floor with no less than two cracked ribs (from yesterday's session) and a possibly dislocated shoulder. He tried to sit up, and gritted his teeth at another jolt of pain. Scratch that. His shoulder was _definitely_ dislocated.

"Jesus, woman…" He finally managed to use his good arm to shove himself into a seated position, his legs splayed out in front of him. She had found that one opening, that one fraction of a second when he was vulnerable. And Sakura had been merciless in taking advantage of it. Sixteen years. Sixteen solid years of classes, practice, meditation, tournaments, trophies and championships. It all amounted to absolutely one thing: _jack shit_. Sakura finally got down on her knees and looped her arm around his waist to help him up. Sarcastically, he said, "I think the lesson is concluded for this afternoon. Would you mind taking me to the emergency room?"

She sighed a little, but agreed. In a fondly irritated voice, she said, "Go and sit on the couch. I'll get our shoes and my bag. Do you need anything?" He shook his head, but when she returned, Sakura was carrying a zipper-seal freezer bag full of ice, a dish towel, one roll of ACE bandage, and a large bandana. After turning the bandana into a makeshift sling, she folded the dish towed and wedged it between his arm and ribcage. The bandage was used to immobilize his arm, while she instructed him to hold the ice on himself. Itachi stepped into his flip-flop sandals, and Sakura did the same with her own. "All set, Itachi-_sensei_?" Was it just the pain making him hear things? Or did she sound like she was mocking him?

Honestly, at this point, it mattered not one bit. The only thing he cared about was getting his shoulder reset, and taking enough painkillers to knock out a horse. After that, he would be happy as a clam. The trip to the hospital was relatively short. Itachi found himself wondering how she got the better of him, two days in a row. He needed time to recuperate, so he turned his head toward her, wincing at the twinge of pain it caused in his shoulder. "Sakura, let's take a week or so off of our training sessions."

"Why? You too banged up?" Her smile of amusement almost made him groan. He hated to admit it, but that was exactly what was going on. Correction. He absolutely _loathed_ the fact that he had received bodily injury twice in the same week from a five-foot four-inch tall, twenty-two year old woman who weighed no more than a buck fifteen. He huffed, irritated.

"Sakura, I have broken bones, and I'm not entirely sure that you didn't rip a couple of my tendons around the deltoid muscle. Besides, you're a big girl. A couple weeks of self-reflection and practice on your own will be good for you." And, he wasn't going to mention that she wouldn't have him to take out her frustrations on. She gave him a wry look. That glance said it all. He had made her work out and train with sprains, pulled muscles, broken fingers and toes, and now _he_ was wimping out? Her eyes said one thing, loud and clear: _you're kidding, right?_

* * *

The doctor shoved the x-ray sheets up onto the light box mounted on the wall. "Well, Mr. Uchiha…hm…looks like you have another broken rib. That makes _three_. Now that your shoulder is back in its rightful position, it should heal up pretty quickly. Though there will be some major swelling." The tall man cocked an eyebrow at Sakura, then looked back at him. "I'm going to write you a prescription for Vikaden, as well as a hefty dosage of ibuprofen, but if I find out that you've been doing anything strenuous…anything at all…I'll have to admit you to the hospital. Understand?" 

"Yes, Dr. Morganstern. Whatever you say."

Sakura piped up, an ill-tempered edge to her voice, "You mean he isn't just being a pussy?"

Itachi's eyes narrowed at her, and she shut up. Morganstern looked at her in surprise. "Young lady, I'll thank you to watch your mouth. There are children in this emergency room." With a mumbled apology, Sakura took Itachi through the exit protocols, wheelchair and all.

Once they picked up Itachi's painkillers, he immediately took one, as well as a preemptive dose of ibuprofen to combat the swelling, and twenty minutes later, Sakura had to deal with something that she never had before: a giddy Itachi. Should she leave him alone in his house? With all that stainless steel and pointy edges all over the place? Hell no…he'd fall down and brain himself on the edge of his coffee-table! And so Sakura found herself hustling the man up to her apartment again, and putting him to bed on the sofa.

"But I'm not sleepy, Sakuraaaa."

"Are you sure about that? Sounds like you are." She pulled the blanket up to his chin. "Just sleep for a while. I'll be doing the same, just in my room. Call me if you need anything." He smiled dopily, making her start in confusion when he gave a little-boy wave good night (you know the one, where they open and close their hand a bunch of times…so cute). Sakura thought that if she never saw Itachi like this again, it would be too soon. The last thing she needed was a twenty-nine-year-old man acting like he was five. Or less.

It was not long before she found herself snuggled into the fluffy down comforter on her queen-sized bed…on the right-hand side. But she couldn't sleep. The light coming in from the full moon was keeping her awake. That, and the fact that the bed felt so _empty_. Already, a year and a half. Sasuke had been gone for so _long_, it seemed. The darkness of a depressed funk started to settle over her.

Not to have anyone get the wrong idea, let us now say that Sakura was nowhere near being suicidal, or even chronically depressed. She was grateful for the support she had from her friends, and from her little brother and cousins. But the person she was most indebted to was Itachi. He was her teacher, and had actually become her friend. The bastard had been tough to get through to, that was for sure. But once she had finally cracked that mile-thick icy shell, he actually _talked_ to her, about real things. Things that were important, and did not involve training. It did not surprise her that the man was interested in so many things, but what did surprise her was that he was so deeply…spiritual.

Uchiha Itachi was a devout Buddhist. She knew that the family practiced, and that Sasuke had been going through a period of disillusionment with all religion in general just before he died. However, it had surprised her beyond words to find Itachi one day upon being ushered into his house to find him chanting, with incense burning, and looking so at peace with the world that it seemed to be the only thing that mattered to him at all. No one in their right mind, upon seeing this, would ever imagine that he was the brains behind all of the money-laundering and number-crunching for an enormous crime family.

So now she lay there, staring up at the lines of light on the ceiling. Sakura found herself wishing for all of the bottles she'd thrown out. Well, not all of them. Just one would do. She'd thrown out all of her alcohol, as per Itachi's request. He was a big fan of purity. Not only of mind, but body as well. And, since she had delivered herself into his able hands, she was his little bit of clay to mold. Sakura had, in a year and a half, graduated from New York University with the highest honors possible, and learned the equivalent of six years of Aikido. At least that's what Itachi said. Her current job—working in an antique weapons shop as the resident historian—allowed her much free time, so she could always leave when her boss closed up at two in the afternoon and run home to meet Itachi to train, unless there was something utterly pressing to research.

She was not obsessed. The fact that she had a dartboard on the back of her bedroom door was irrelevant. That there were little caricatures of hoodlums pinned up there, knives sticking out of their faces…had nothing to do with how she looked at everyone in suspicion. Sakura's throwing knives found their way into the faces of those pretend criminals more and more often lately. She was not obsessed. That she really felt right now that she needed a drink…had _maybe_ a little to do with the fact that this coming Friday was supposed to have been the day she and Sasuke were to be married. But that was beside the point! She was _not_ obsessed.

* * *

"Hello?" 

"Kakashi! My dear, sweet, loving cousin—"

"I'm hanging up, now, Ino."

"No! Please? Wait."

"Hn. What?"

"Tomorrow's your birthday."

"Thank you for reminding me. Now can I get back to sleep?"

"Look, asshole, I'm going to be coming to get you at eight o'clock tomorrow night, and we're going to the pub. I'm going to be your designated driver, and I'll even pay your bar tab."

"Hn."

"What, 'hn'?"

"It's already tomorrow."

"Oh. Happy birthday, then. Get some sleep, Kakashi. I'll be at your building. Eight sharp. Wear something nice so you can puke all over yourself, okay?"

"I'm _really_ hanging up now, Ino."

"Good night, and happy birthday, idiot."

* * *

"Where are my goddamned glasses!" Sakura screeched, causing her employer to flinch where he stood. She looked up, sheepish. "Sorry, Mr. Shiranui. But I can't find my glasses." Shiranui Genma, a mildly attractive man in his mid-thirties, ran long fingers through his shoulder-length brown hair. An amused smile spread over his face, making him a bit more than a _little_ good-looking. Why was it that her boss had to look cute when he was up to no good? Genma's dark eyes strayed to the top of her head, and his smile widened. Sakura reached up, feeling the shatter-resistant lenses of her glasses, and sighed in disgust at herself. "Oh, hell." 

"Sakura, you are a brilliant woman. Why can't you keep track of those things?" He gestured to the spectacles with a toothpick as she replaced them on her nose.

"Sorry. I'm not exactly myself lately." That was an understatement, really. The fact that she was working on a huge project at the moment, and making no headway at all, was more frustrating than almost everything else. Her current project was creating a database for the hundreds of antique weapons in the shop, including those in the fireproof basement safe. The bell above the shop's outer door tinkled, and both of them stood and said, "Welcome," in a respectful tone.

Genma jumped over the counter to greet their guest. It was obvious that these two men knew one another well. The man that had just walked in had beautiful olive skin, marred only by the pale scar that cut across his nose. Eyes that reminded her of chocolate seemed to be smiling, even though he was not. He was not exceedingly tall, but probably a little taller than Itachi. He greeted Genma with a firm handshake, and a smile. It looked a bit forced to Sakura. Pushing her glasses back up her nose, she turned back to the computer screen. The two men talked for a few moments, and she tuned them out, in favor of her project. There was one naval dirk from France that she was having a bit of trouble tracking. It was used by its original owner, then that ship had been taken down by pirates…after that it was a bit muddled.

So enveloped in her work that she didn't hear the men, the only thing that drew Sakura's attention away from the dirk was a cellophane-wrapped peppermint being bounced off of her forehead. "Oi!" She looked up angrily to see Genma staring pointedly at her, and the other man trying to hold back a smile. "Um…" Sakura stammered, "Sorry?"

"You're hopeless, you know that?" Her employer chewed for a moment on his toothpick. She nodded mutely, not wanting to piss him off. Sakura had only seen him angry once, but that had been quite enough. He cleared his throat, and gestured to the man next to him. "This is Umino Iruka. He is a member of the police department. He wants to ask you a few questions. Iruka, this is Haruno Sakura. She's my historian, and I have every confidence that she'll be able to tell you _whatever_ you need to know." No pressure.

Frowning, she stood and escorted him to the coffee room. When he had seated himself in a chair, she said, "Coffee? Tea?"

"Thank you. Tea, please. Green, if you have it." He watched her make the tea. She could _feel_ him watching. A few minutes later, she set a cup and saucer in front of him. Taking a sip, he smiled. "Ah. Thanks again."

"If you don't mind me asking, Mr…er…Detective Umino, what is this all about?" She was curious, but she was also a little frightened. Maybe it had something to do with Sasuke?

The detective pulled an envelope out of his satchel. From it, he took a small stack of photographs. "What do you make of this?" Sakura took the photos, and stared in disbelief at what she saw.

"Where…did you find this?" The picture in her hands was of the hand-guard and hilt of a 16th century Spanish rapier, and the thing was absolutely exquisite.

The detective ran his finger over the scar on his nose. "It's a murder weapon. I was just wondering if it might have been some kind of message. Can't figure that out unless I know everything possible about the thing." He looked at her, his eyes settling on her in a way that almost pleaded for help. Any kind of help. "I can't give you details, but suffice it to say that we don't have much to go on, other than that sword." Sakura stared at the photographs that she spread out in front of her. The hand-guard was intricate, and the blade gracefully tapered. It was more a work of art than a weapon.

"Well…I would say that either the killer was extremely wealthy, or they're a very competent thief. If this thing's been reported stolen…has it?" Iruka shook his head, and she nodded. Sakura hadn't really hoped that it might be traced back to its original owner. That would be too lucky. "Okay. I would begin with weapons dealers, if I were you. There are several in this country that deal in pieces that are of this caliber. If you like, I can give you a print-out of their names, addresses, and the types of weapons they deal in. Also, I can give you a list of Canadian dealers and those in the United Kingdom. How's that for a start in the right direction?" He smiled at her gratefully, and asked if there was anything else. "Well, you might need to contact Barcelona. This thing reeks of royalty to me, and Spain doesn't take kindly to royal artifacts being illegally sold."

"Ownership rights can wait until after we have the killer."

Sakura smiled. This was a very good man. "Is there anything else, detective?"

The man shook his head, and thanked her. "If I need anything else, can I call you?" At her raised eyebrow, he stammered and blushed a bit. "For information about the sword, I mean."

"Certainly." Handing him a business card, she said, "That's got my home number, and my cellular phone number as well." Gesturing to the pictures, she asked, "Can I keep these? I'll look into it a bit more and let you know what I find." Iruka nodded and she escorted him back to the front room where she printed out the five-page list of names, telephone numbers and addresses that she had promised. "Good luck, detective." With a smile, the man was gone.

"Slick, Sakura. Very slick." Genma was leaning against the counter next to the printer, chewing on yet another toothpick.

"What?" She asked, annoyed by her boss's attitude.

"Nothing." He smiled around his toothpick. Honestly, this man was infuriating. Genma's smile was rather shameless as he said, "You all but asked the guy on a date and all you can say is 'what'?" Sakura's mouth hung open. That was _not_ what just happened. She pulled her pencil out of the messy bun her hair was in and chucked it at him, the eraser hitting him on the cheek. "Hey!"

"Enough out of you! I was _not_ flirting with him. _Jesus Christ_!"

Genma laughed, disappearing into the back room. Sakura growled to herself. She really, really wanted a drink.

* * *

It was cold today. Kakashi was glad for his gloves as he rode down the streets on his motorcycle. The days had grown shorter, and the nights longer, and he had been getting more calls from Genma. What was it about winter in New York that made people want to kill each other? Not that he was complaining. That just meant he was one step closer to his goal. More money equaled early retirement. And he wasn't going to complain about that. No sir. 

Having just left his session with Dr. Yuuhi, he was going over to Genma's shop for his latest contract. Soho was as it always was: chic, hip, and too rich for his blood. Kakashi turned into the alley next to the shop, and walked around to the front door. When he pushed the steel door open, he was surprised to see someone who was definitely not Genma sitting at the counter.

The woman was slender, and had papers lying on the counter in front of her. A pair of reading glasses had slid down her nose, which only drew his attention to the exceedingly bright green of her eyes, and the delicate structure of her face. She wore a dark gray suit jacket over a black t-shirt. Her lower body was not visible. The thing that was most surprising about this woman was that she had hair the color of cotton candy. She pushed that pink hair out of her eyes, and said, "Welcome, sir. How can I assist you?"

He was having a hard time keeping his eyes on her face. They strayed to the nearly translucent skin of her neck, and he wondered what it felt like. What did it taste like? Kakashi shook himself a little to get those thoughts out of his head. Smiling weakly and trying not to let his interest show, he said coolly, "I'm here to speak to Mr. Shiranui. Is he in?" Just then, the door to Genma's office burst open, revealing the man himself. He didn't look happy.

"Ah! There you are! Where the hell have you been?" Genma bellowed, causing the woman to cringe, and look at him sympathetically. Before he knew it, he was being roughly grabbed by the front of his leather jacket and hauled into the back office. After slamming the door behind him, Genma let up on the act. "So, how's your shrink?"

"She's good." Kakashi hooked a thumb toward the door. "Who's that?"

Genma's smile was less than wholesome. "Nice, eh? She's my historian. I figure if I play my cards right, she'll do nicely. If she ever thaws out." Kakashi raised an eyebrow. Genma said in a rather sullen tone, "She's an ice bitch. But she's polite about it. That's what's strange. I asked if she wanted to come out with me for dinner last week. She said she had plans, but that she was sorry she couldn't go. I knew that she was lying."

"You mean her having plans, or that she was sorry she couldn't go?" Genma's eyebrows drew down in a frown, but then he shrugged off the smirking man's insult. Kakashi gave up on trying to get a rise out of him. "So, what's my latest?"

Opening a drawer, the man pulled out a photograph. "Archie Baxter. Small-time extortionist, trying to get too close to the Haruno family. He's been hanging around the youngest, Ishida." Kakashi raised an eyebrow. Genma smiled. "The kid's only thirteen, and already he's bad news. This guy's only gonna make him worse. So, Baxter's your man. This one came down from the kid's mother, directly. She's looking out for her baby boy." Kakashi snorted, but took the envelope with all of the pertinent information.

"I'll take care of it tomorrow night."

"Why then? Why not tonight?"

"Ino's taking me out. It's my birthday. We'll probably go down to O'Grady's and I'll end up puking until early morning." That made Genma laugh.

"Happy birthday, then. And take care of Baxter as soon as possible." Nodding, Kakashi stepped out of the office, and walked past the counter, where the woman was looking at some photographs. A look of concentration was etched over her face, and she almost didn't notice that he had come back to the storefront.

She looked amused as she peered over her glasses at him. "He didn't bite your head off, did he?"

"Not too badly."

"That's a relief," she said before returning her gaze to the photographs. Kakashi walked out of the door, not wanting to stay any longer. That woman was a little intimidating, and it wasn't just that she was beautiful. The way she held herself told him that she was not the kind of broad to mess with. It didn't take long before he nearly rear-ended someone because he couldn't get that smile and those eyes out of his head. Something seemed familiar about her, as well, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He nearly laughed at himself.

* * *

Now nine o'clock in the evening, Sakura dragged herself to the shower. Unwinding the wrappings from her hands, she dropped them into the dirty clothes bin, along with her foot wraps and her clothes. Her body ached. She had been working through katas, doing her yoga poses, lifting weights, and finally working with the heavy bag since she had gotten home at three. She was going to be sore tomorrow, but she thought she could live with that. It wasn't as if she had a manual labor job. 

The water felt wonderful. It wasn't too hot, but wasn't lukewarm, either. After a lengthy shower, she dried herself and started getting ready to go out. She was going to get that drink, and Itachi didn't have to know a thing about it. If he did find out, there wasn't much he could _do_ about it anyway. All he could really do was glare at her disapprovingly.

When she looked into her closet, she frowned. Business clothes and work out stuff. She just wanted something casual. After some digging, she located a brown suede skirt that would fall to mid calf, a dark red long-sleeved t-shirt, and a pair of dark red high heeled shoes. Not too casual, but she wasn't about to go grungy.

There was a pub not far from her apartment, and she was actually glad that she could walk there. The last thing she did before leaving her apartment was to put on her coat and grab her bag. When she had walked the three blocks to the place, she entered and sat down at the bar. The old bar tender, a man named Pete, leaned over and said, "What'll it be, doll-face?"

"Scotch. Straight up. And Pete," she said, leaning over the bar, jabbing a finger at the old man, "if I catch you putting any water in it, I'll slap you into next Tuesday."

The old bastard just chuckled and said, "I love it when you threaten me. It makes me fell naughty." Pete was more than twice her age, and just thinking of him in any situation where the word _naughty_ would apply conjured mental images that would make the most hardened criminal cry. Hard. After a moment, he poured her drink, and set it down on the bar in front of her. Staring down into the glass, she looked at her reflection. Over a year since she had a drink. The last time had been here, as well. But she wasn't alone. "Heya, sweetheart," Pete's gnarled hand squeezed hers. His voice was kindly. She knew what he was going to say. "I'm real sorry about your boyfriend."

"Thanks, Pete." The man walked away to help one of the other customers, knowing that she wanted to be alone.

* * *

Kakashi walked back up to the bar to get another pitcher of beer. Ino was paying, so he was drinking the good stuff. "Pete," he said in a quiet voice that somehow got the man's attention anyway, "could I get another pitcher of Guinness?" The man nodded. It would take a few minutes to pour the pitcher, so the silvery-haired man sat on one of the empty stools, and took up a book of matches. For some reason, when he drank, he found it amusing to light matches while they were still attached to the book. It was easier than it looked. And somehow, it got easier and more amusing the more he had to drink. The only trick was, he had to try not to burn the hell out of himself. 

The pub wasn't very busy. It was only Wednesday, and that tended to be one of their slower nights. Other than Ino and himself, there were five other people here. Two old guys who seemed to live in the back corner booth, one guy hitting on an obviously uninterested brunette, and…Kakashi blinked, almost burning himself on one of his matches. The knockout from Genma's shop was sitting there at the end of the bar, glaring at a glass of Scotch as if it had offended her.

What was the saying about men when they got drunk? Oh, yes. Ten feet tall, and bulletproof. That must have been the only explanation why he slid off of his stool and approached her. She looked absolutely…beautiful…in spite of the way she was staring at her liquor. The stool next to her was empty, so he sat on her right, and leaned on the bar, looking not at her, but the bottles of whiskey and vodka that were behind the bar. "Hello again, Miss."

They looked at each other for a long moment, her green eyes meeting his mismatched (dark blue, and reddish brown) ones. "Oh, hello." Her voice came out rather scratchy, as if she were trying not to cry.

Kakashi smiled widely to distract her from whatever it was that caused the woman to be so choked up. "If you don't mind my asking, I was wondering if I could introduce myself. My name's Kakashi. I've done a bit of business with Genma, and since I'm in and out of there pretty regularly, I didn't want to not know your name." He stuck out his hand, and she looked at it for a moment, seeming dazed.

The woman smiled weakly, and shook his hand. "Sakura. Sorry I didn't introduce myself earlier. I'm working on a couple of pretty in-depth research projects, so I space out pretty easily." Her slender hand waved in the air, gesturing at nothing, as if to emphasize her point. She sipped her drink, and he noticed that she was gripping it pretty tightly.

He wondered what it was that was wrong. She seemed pretty upset, but Kakashi wasn't one to pry into other people's problems. The way he saw it, if he did that, then it would catch up to him. Karma's a bitch, so to speak. He smiled again, making a dismissive wave with his hand. "It's no problem. Genma was a little pissy. You should see him when he gets drunk. He's pretty mean. Either that or he sucks his thumb."

That drew a genuine smile and a short laugh from her. Then, Kakashi thought he was getting the 'go away' vibe. Rather than ignoring it like most men would, he decided to take the hint. "Well, I just wanted to introduce myself. I'll see you around, Sakura." He collected his pitcher, and went to sit back down with Ino.

"Kakashi, who is that woman?" She asked, staring across the room at where Sakura sat.

"No ideas, now. I don't think she swings that way." The way Ino was looking at Sakura made it quite clear that she thought he might not have succeeded in picking her up, and it might have been because Sakura wasn't into men.

"Oh, what makes you say that?"

"Trust me, darling. She's straight. I have instincts about these things. Anyway, a friend of mine is her boss. She's an historian, specializing in military history." Ino nodded, seeming rather disappointed. She was pouting, in fact. He smiled.

* * *

It was midnight when she left the pub. She'd had far too much to drink, but Sakura wasn't about to take a cab to go three blocks. So, she decided that she'd stumble back home all by herself. 

Ten feet tall. Maybe bulletproof.

At this very moment, she was busy trying to dislodge her overcoat from the door, where it was stuck. The brown wool was wedged in pretty tightly, and the option of re-opening the door never really occurred to her, so she just kept tugging on it, and giggling at her own ineptitude.

So absorbed in this was she that she didn't notice someone opening the door, and yanked one last time just as they did. Sakura jerked back hard on the coat, and as the door opened, her momentum caused herself to stumble, then to fall to her backside on the cold, hard cement. "Ow…" she said, and tried without success to pick herself up.

A hand appeared in front of her face. "Need some help?" When her eyes followed the line of the hand up to an arm, it then led her to a face.

"Kakashi?" She asked, rather slurred, so that it came out more like, "'Kashi?"

He snorted, and pulled her up to her feet. "Come on. I'll get you a cab." She shook him off violently, and he said defensively, "Hey, now! I just wanted to do you a favor!"

Sighing, she leaned on him and gave him a hug to make him feel better. "I didn't wanna hurt your feelings, 'Kashi. But I don't _need_ a cab. Only live three blocks away." This was said as she waved a hand in the general direction of her apartment. With that, Sakura turned and marched defiantly in the direction of her apartment building. There was murmuring behind her, and then fast footsteps, after which Kakashi was walking next to her.

"I'll walk you home, then."

She turned to him, her eyes narrowing. "You saying I can't take care of myself?"

His eyes widened, and he held his hands up in his own defense, yet again. "No. I'm doing it to make myself feel better." _Huh?_ She was confused. Why would it make him feel better? Then, he answered her unasked question in a rather sly tone. "I'd never be able to forgive myself if something happened to you." As annoyed as she was from him thinking she couldn't handle her own shit, she was a little flattered. No one had said anything like that to her for some time.

Sakura mulled over the events of the day, and decided that it had to be the alcohol making her think this way. The man who walked along beside her was rather attractive, in spite of his graying hair. Who was she kidding? Graying? It was all the way there. But it didn't look bad on him. It just sort of stuck out at strange angles, giving the appearance that he'd just fallen out of bed. For all she knew, his hair just grew that way. He wasn't the first person she'd thought that about. Sasuke's hair had stuck up in the back, no matter what he did. After a while, he just gave up trying to make it do anything other than what it had wanted to.

Thinking about Sasuke was always a dangerous prospect. At the moment, Sakura was running the hazard of being depressed. If that happened, she would turn right around and go back to the pub, and someone would have to _pour_ her into a cab to go the three blocks back home. So how did one avoid sinking into the depths of a depression so dark that they wouldn't be able to climb out of the bottle? "'Kashi?"

"Hm?"

"Want some tea?"

* * *

Tea. Hadn't she said something about tea? No one was saying anything at the moment. Sakura was too busy molesting his mouth with hers while trying to unlock her door. Kakashi had a few too many beers, he knew, but if this was an alcohol-induced hallucination, it was the cruelest one yet. Being delusional about this sort of thing was a very bad sign. The door opened and she shoved him inside, shut the door, and pressed him against the back of it. She had not bothered to turn on the lights, so he couldn't see a damned thing. 

When she stopped kissing him, he panted, breathless. He felt her hands grip his shirt, tugging him forward. It was a minute or so before she released him, but he only found himself pushed roughly onto something soft but firm. A bed. Kakashi's eyes went wide when her hands started pulling his clothes off. "Sakura…" he began to protest, but was stopped by the feeling of warm hands sliding over the skin of his chest and stomach. "Aaaaah. Wait…what are you—"

"Shut up," she growled next to his ear, her hands working at his belt buckle. It was at that moment when his inner demon woke. Kakashi gripped her wrists and flipped their positions, so that he was above her.

"Now, that's much better." His need to be in control, and ensure that he would be able to determine the outcome of any situation had gotten the better of him. Sakura stared up at him, her eyes wide. He had a strong feeling of déjà vu, which he did not understand. The feeling passed as quickly as it had appeared, and he leaned down to kiss her. There were a lot of things that were strange, or even wrong about Kakashi. He would be the first to admit that. He had control issues (or, if you took his shrink's point of view, an _obsession_ with control), was pretty paranoid, and he killed people for a living. But he could appreciate a beautiful woman when he saw one. And Sakura was very, very beautiful.

After he pulled away from her, he watched her face for a long moment. "What?" She asked, furrowing her brow. Reaching out with one hand, he smoothed the frown on her forehead.

"You're very beautiful, Sakura." He didn't know why he said that. Certainly, she knew she was beautiful. Surely she understood what the looks men gave her meant. It was obvious. But it had just come out. A smile formed on her face, transforming it into a vision of what—if he believed in such things—he thought Heaven might look like.

* * *

It was too fucking bright in the room. Sakura groaned. Pulling the pillow from under her head, she covered her face. "Ugh." _Wait. Bright?_ Throwing the pillow, she looked at the alarm-clock. "Shit!" she yelled to no one in particular. "I'm late!" Then, she felt the bed stirring, and when she looked to the left side of the bed, she found something that made her heart drop into her toes. 

Kakashi, the man from the day before, was just waking up to her outburst. "Oh, goddamnit," she groaned, running her fingers through her hair anxiously, and then looking down at herself. Sakura was most decidedly naked. Under the covers, Kakashi was probably in the same state.

* * *

When she yelled, he woke up, and turned over. Now, she was growling to herself, apparently not sure what had happened the night before. Well, put two consenting adults in a bed, and if they're naked…he figured she could fill in the blanks. Kakashi opened his eyes, and nearly pissed himself. He now realized why it was that this woman, Sakura, seemed so very familiar. It was the room that brought the memory back, really. The position of the window, the bed, the other furniture… 

This was _Haruno_ Sakura. She was same woman who he had dosed with chloroform more than a year ago after sticking a knife into her fiancé's neck. He couldn't breathe. It was all coming back. And it was all crashing down on him. The one loose end he'd left. It was _her._ Scrabbling across the bed in what could only be described as raw panic, he ran to the bathroom, emptying his stomach of what little still remained in it. Now, he was tempted to believe in God. Believe in him, and think that the bastard _hated_ his guts. That was fine by Kakashi, because right now, he hated that bastard, too. As he sat slumped over the toilet, hands gripping the white porcelain, he hyperventilated.

Sure, he was a murderer for hire. That didn't mean he had no morals. Sleeping with the woman had been a mistake, but it went _well_ beyond the normal one-night stand sort of mistake. This was just sick. Another fit of nausea overcame him, but there was nothing left in his stomach. Kakashi just let it pass. Then, he rinsed his mouth thoroughly, and poked his head out of the bathroom door. Sakura was still sitting there, staring off into space. "You okay?" He asked as he walked out.

"I'm fine. Just a little hangover, and I'm probably not going to work today. That's all. You?" She seemed as if she were saying these things to have _something_ to occupy her mind other than the possibility of having slept with a man she had met only a day earlier. And she was looking anywhere but at him.

"I'm okay." He lied, and started to collect his clothing, trying not to look at her either. This was the worst morning of his life. And later, he got to go and do another job for her parents. _Yippee. _Suddenly, and not for the first time, he wondered if she knew that her parents had been the ones to put a hit on her boyfriend. It took only about two nanoseconds to decide that Archie Baxter would be the _last _hit he every pulled for the Haruno family.

The telephone rang, and she reached for it. "Hello?" He was almost grateful. It gave him time to think, and to dress himself. "No, Mr. Shiranui. I'm not coming in today. Could you send those photographs of the sword over by bike messenger? I wanted to do some internet research at home. And if Detective Umino calls, just tell him that he can contact me here." Kakashi nearly fell over while trying to hop into his pants. Fuck. What was that little prick Umino doing snooping around Genma's? He was Genma's friend, but what did he want Sakura for?

Sakura's irritated sigh pulled him out of his thoughts. "Mr. Shiranui—_Genma_, please. I have a hangover. I'm going to _hang up_ now. I will. Thank you." With that, she replaced the receiver in its cradle. Then, she turned to Kakashi, adjusting the sheet she'd pulled up over herself. "I feel really stupid. I know that I probably slept with you. Am I right?" A nod from Kakashi. "Well…shit. Kind of messes up any professional relations we might have, now, doesn't it?" Kakashi's frown began to tug at the corners of his mouth, moving in a downward slide.

"Don't worry about that right now, okay? What's done is done. We can't control the past." Did _he_ actually just say that? Though he was pretty much just repeating Kurenai's own words that had been directed at him, he didn't much care. That mantra she taught him worked. "Just think about this. Someone once told me, when I feel like things are out of control, I can recite this little thing to myself. Want to hear it?" Sakura blinked at him, a little confused, but nodded. "God give me the ability to change those things I can, the strength to bear those that I cannot, and the wisdom to know the difference."

Sakura's smile was sad. "You sound like a grief councilor."

He snorted a little. "I learned that from my shrink. So, I guess that fits." He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. "I'll see you later, Sakura. Get some rest." His own tenderness surprised him, but he felt like she needed comfort, so he gave it to her. Though, he was sure that it wasn't only for her. It was hell, dealing with loose ends, but more so when they appeared in the form of exceptionally beautiful women.

When he moved into the living room, he looked around, not recognizing the place. The greater part of the area had been converted into a workout area, and apparently, a dojo. Padding on the floor, as well as weapons and punching bags told of some form of martial arts training. His original impression of her in the shop had been correct, it seemed. If he made her angry, she would probably beat the stuffing out of him.

Instead of heading straight home, he decided that he would go to Soho. Genma needed a beating. If he was going to hire someone, why did it have to be her? And why didn't he tell Kakashi? These were the questions that went through his mind as he took a cab to The Rusty Dagger. He rolled his eyes at the name. Just like Genma to think up a name like that. Sounded like a goddamned biker bar. As he sat in the back of the taxi, he smiled to himself. The man would apologize. Then, he would tell him everything he knew about Haruno Sakura.

* * *

** A/N:** Yeah. Kakashi's ticked off beyond all reason. Oh, well, not that bad. That's Genma in the next chapter... Speakign of which...

* * *

**Sneak peek at chapter 3, "Downward Spiral" (and these are in no particular order):**

It took less than a minute and thirty seconds (during which Sakura stood frozen to the spot, still holding the teacups) for the tall, dark haired man to stalk back into the kitchen. Sakura winced. "Haruno Sakura." There was a very dark tone to his voice, and he seemed to have sobered considerably. "Your bed smells suspiciously like alcohol." After a short pause, during which he steadied himself, he said, "And sex."

"And?"

* * *

She was wearing a light blue t-shirt and a pair black house-pants, slung low on her slender hips, as well as (to his everlasting delight) a set of fluffy white bunny slippers. Iruka spoke up, next to him. "We apologize for interrupting, Miss Haruno."

Naruto looked embarrassed, but smiled in spite of it when he looked at her feet. "Yeah. And I'm really sorry about the door."

* * *

"Sakura, what are you doing here?"

Huffing loudly, she crossed her arms over her chest. "You…you're being a coward."

He might have been a little hazy from the drugs, still. Itachi wasn't sure he heard her correctly. "Excuse me?"

Sakura repeated herself, enunciating her words carefully. "You are being a coward, Itachi. Don't run away from me like that."

* * *

hope you like! 


	3. Downward Spiral

**A/N:** OOOOkay. Now. This might have some people getting all huffy, and yelling "OOC!" (insert rioting villagers with pitchforks and torches) but darn it, everyone's got a heart, and for crying out loud, I love giving Itachi one. Oh. And he's on Vikaden, to which I'm pretty sure he may be allergic, since it has such strong effects on his...personality. Anyway, in this chapter, we have two new characters. Shikamaru, and our favorite fair-haired boy, Uzumaki Naruto. He's not a stupid-head in this fic, so you guys are going to have to get over that, too. He just has no social skills. Fun stuff for this chapter! Cheetos and Lo Mein, Bunny Slippers, an extremely ticked-off Genma, and my eternal sympathy for Uchiha Itachi.

And this chapter is brought to you courtesy of the following songs: Yellowcard (How I Go), Eisley (I Wasn't Prepared), Flyleaf (Fully Alive), and Radiohead (Exit Music For a Film).

** Warnings:****  
**

** FL--**foul language!

** Legal Stuffiness:** I do not own Naruto or any of the characters therein. Kishimoto Masashi, sole proprietor.

Please note that there's something wrong with the upload and edit engine. The separator bar is non-functional at this juncture, and hopefully will be working later so I can repost it.

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**Chapter 3:** Downward Spiral

When he watched his partner eat, he felt sick. For someone who had just made detective at the tender age of twenty-two, the kid still ate like he was in college. At the moment, Uzumaki Naruto was munching on chicken lo mein and Cheetos. The alternate slurps and crunches made Iruka want to get away from him. "Naruto, can you _please_ try to eat _normal_ food? All you eat is noodles. Lo mein, ramen, spaghetti. Try a sandwich. And do you _have_ to eat Cheetos in the car?"

The younger man turned eyes that exuded innocence on him. After swallowing a mouthful of cheesy goodness, he said, "Cut it out, Iruka. I eat what I like, and you eat what you like. Now. Why are we here?" They looked at the eight-story building. It was an apartment building.

"Once you get your face out of day-old Chinese food and MSG, I'll tell you." Finally, Iruka had found the one thing that the kid would actually put down the noodles for. Work. In spite of his disgusting eating habits, Naruto was an excellent cop, with unparalleled instincts. He sullenly closed the box and stuffed it and the bag of chips into the glove box. Iruka made a mental note to be sure he took it out. "We're going to see someone about the sword murder case. Now, I don't want you to be rude, Naruto. She's helping us out."

If it were possible, those blue eyes got even larger. One day, Iruka would find out exactly how he made himself look non-threatening when he was anything but. The two of them got out of the car, Naruto brushing Cheeto flakes from his tie, and Iruka wondering why he bothered. It was orange, anyhow. "But I'm never rude, Iruka. You're the one who can't control your temper." The older man only snorted. They rode the elevator all the way up to the top, and knocked on the door of the woman they were going to see.

Loud grunts were heard from within, and Naruto looked at Iruka questioningly, who only shrugged. Then, a sharp cry came through the door. Naruto didn't even stop to think about what that might mean, apparently. The blonde also didn't stop to announce his presence. He simply took one step back, drew his weapon, and kicked the door in. Iruka drew his pistol as well, just to be safe. The sight before them was not anything that Iruka had expected. Naruto blinked in surprise, as well.

Haruno Sakura was dressed in a pair of long, baggy black athletic shorts and a pink sports bra, as well as protective wrappings for her feet and hands. She was standing next to a heavy bag, which swung back and forth, and was looking at the blonde man who had broken her door down. Her voice was rather sharp when she said, "I expect that the department will pay to have that fixed, detective Umino. And am I correct in supposing that this walking battering-ram is your partner?"

Naruto swallowed audibly as she crossed the room, her feet making slapping noises on the floor. He could, apparently, not think of anything to say other than, "Uzumaki Naruto." After sticking out his hand for her to shake, he scratched his head sheepishly with the other. "Sorry about the door."

Nodding a little, she said, taking the offered hand, "Haruno Sakura. Please make yourselves comfortable. I'll be out in a few minutes. I expected you a little later." With that, she walked into the back of the apartment. The two men sat on the couch, and looked around.

Naruto's eyes darted everywhere. "This place looks familiar." Iruka raised an eyebrow. "What? I…hey! I know. I was looking over the unsolved cases for things that might fit into any of the hit profiles we've got, and I found a case that involved this apartment. About…a year and a half ago, the younger son of Uchiha Fugaku was murdered. In this apartment, with his girlfriend—I mean, his fiancé—sleeping next to him."

"And you remember the photos?"

Naruto just nodded, that dumb-as-dirt look all over his face. Iruka would never understand him. He could play dumb all he wanted, but the kid was brilliant. His memory was quite good for things he was interested in, which included anything having to do with his job, as well as food, and action movies. Iruka also suspected that women were factored in there somewhere, thought he had no concrete proof, as of yet.

--

Naruto waited, rather impatiently, on the arm of the couch. He didn't want to sit still in here. But he knew that it would be rude, especially after breaking in the door, to go exploring. The dojo area was very interesting. He wondered what would interest a girl like her in martial arts. When he had burst into the room, she was delivering a swift jab of her knee to the heavy-bag. It was no surprise, from the force of the kick, that there was duct tape on the bag in several spots. He smiled. Naruto had to admire a girl that could possibly kick his ass, and when she emerged from the back of the apartment, he admired her even more.

She was wearing a light blue t-shirt and a pair black house-pants, slung low on her slender hips, as well as (to his everlasting delight) a set of fluffy white bunny slippers. Iruka spoke up, next to him. "We apologize for interrupting, Miss Haruno."

Naruto looked embarrassed, but smiled in spite of it when he looked at her feet. "Yeah. And I'm really sorry about the door."

She snorted. "Hey, don't worry about it. You guys want anything to drink?"

Iruka asked for green tea, while Naruto frowned, thinking for a moment. "Do you have any _regular_ tea? Not the Japanese stuff?" That seemed to amuse Sakura, for which he was glad. She was very pretty when she smiled. That didn't stop his incessant babbling, though. "I mean…not that I don't like green tea, but…that is, my parents are Japanese, and they sort of adopted me, and well…I'm from England, really, so…"

Sakura stifled a laugh. "How about Earl Grey, then?"

Once again awkward, Naruto said, "Sure. Thanks." Sakura disappeared into the kitchen, and he smacked himself on the forehead with his notebook. Iruka laughed at his lack of social grace. "Shut up, Iruka!" Naruto hissed, wishing he could smack his head with the door he'd broken instead.

In a low, but very amused voice, Iruka said, "You are, as always, completely inept when it comes to women."

This caused the younger detective to snort lightly. "Like you're much better." Iruka just smiled, albeit in a strained sort of way. Any time Naruto brought up women, he brought up the fact that Iruka's marriage had ended in a sudden and violent court battle a year earlier. Luckily, that was not the case this time. Just as Sakura was coming into the room, Naruto mouthed: _bite me_ at Iruka. His smile widened and became more genuine, then he stuck out his tongue at Naruto, who waited until Sakura's back was turned to make a rude gesture at his partner.

"So," Sakura said as she spread out the pictures on the glass top of the coffee table, bringing their attention back to the matter at hand, "The sword is Spanish, as I said before." Pointing to the many curvilinear bits of metal forming the hand-guard, she said, "Your killer is right-handed." Naruto nodded. Since the sword was designed to protect the back of the hand and made to be held in a certain way, one could easily tell for which hand the sword was created. "If it were another type, such as a cup-hilted rapier, it could be used by an individual who was left-handed, as well. The swept style of the hand guard is only meant for a right-handed man, though. This type of sword is extremely valuable."

"Just look at all of the ornamentation. Scrollwork, inlay, a carved bone handle, not to mention the jewels…This would have had some kind of record of sale. Did you have any luck when you contacted Barcelona, Detective?" Iruka looked rather uncomfortable. "What?"

Naruto sighed. "_He_ didn't call them. His Spanish is limited to ordering gorditas at Taco Bell. I did speak to one of the head honchos over there. After I faxed over images of the sword, he claimed not to have recognized it." Shaking his head, he expressed his disbelief. "Something like this doesn't just sit in somebody's attic until they find it, and decide to off some poor schmuck. There's gotta be a way to trace it."

"Unfortunately," Sakura said, "there is one way that it would be able to remain unknown. If it were in a private collection, such as being a family heirloom, or something stolen or otherwise illegally obtained, it may not even have been insured." Sakura's words made Naruto's heart sink. He took a sip of his tea, frowning around the white china rim. Her voice was filled with disappointment when she next spoke. "I'm truly sorry that I can't be of more use to you." He looked at her slippers, the little floppy bunny ears bouncing up and down as she twitched her feet. Was she nervous or something?

Iruka suddenly stood. "Well, I suppose that'll be all for now, then. If you find anything new, give us a call." Naruto stared at him dumbly. "Come on, kid. We're going to chase the wild goose." The younger man stood, and set down his teacup.

"Thank you very much for the tea, Miss Haruno. Please, call us if you need anything." Smiling his very best smile, he turned to leave. "And don't worry about waiting for the department to fix the door." Digging through his coat pocket, he found a stack of business cards. "Just call me. There's my work and mobile numbers. I'll either pay for it, or fix it myself. My way of making up for being over-eager." Sakura took the card with a smile, though she did not meet his eyes, and seemed to be trying not to laugh.

The two men saw themselves out, then walked to the elevator. Iruka turned to Naruto as the doors closed. "Smooth, kid."

Shrugging, Naruto smiled. "Can't blame a guy for trying."

--

Sakura stared at the card in her hand. On it was a generic policeman's badge, and Naruto's contact information. Her mouth drew up into a smile. "And they say chivalry is dead…" She walked to the kitchen, and used a magnet to hold it to the refrigerator door, right next to Iruka's card. Her father would absolutely want to kill her if he found out that she was even speaking to the police in a civil manner, let alone helping them. But Sakura couldn't keep her smile from widening when she thought of how the young blonde detective had grinned at her like a mischievous little boy.

He seemed like a very nice man. Both he and his partner did. Naruto seemed to be nothing short of a charmer, while that Iruka was content to watch the younger man and laugh. Shifting her bunny-slippered feet, she thought hard. What would Sasuke have thought of these people? She was decently certain that he would have gotten along with Iruka, since the older man was rather quiet, and had a pleasant disposition. But Naruto? No, she didn't think that they would have been very friendly.

When she entered the living room to retrieve the teacups, she found that Itachi had let himself in. It wasn't difficult, since the door was not functioning any longer. He was looking decidedly…mellow. "Afternoon," he said, offering a small wave with his uninjured arm. "You had company?" She nodded, and continued to clear up the aftermath of the small party's refreshment. He was silent for a moment, but then said, "I like your feet." His finger pointed at her bunny slippers.

Grinning in spite of herself, she said, "Thank you. Why don't you sit down?" He did, plopping down on the couch. She wondered what was up. Itachi never 'plopped'. "How many of those pills did you take?" Maybe he had taken more than he was supposed to?

"Just one. Why?" He blinked owlishly at her, and Sakura giggled just a bit.

"You're a little loopy, Itachi." Shaking her head, she shuffled into the kitchen, then called back to him, "So what is the occasion for this visit?" The man poked his head into the kitchen a moment later.

"Dad won't let me touch the accounts. He said he doesn't want me screwing them up. Can you imagine? _Me_, screwing up the books! And just when the family is going legit? Never." Sakura started. The Uchiha family? Going…legit? Her surprise showed on her face, it seemed. "Oh. Um…did I forget to mention it to you? Well, I feel a little a little awkward now. Anyway, he's been thinking of doing this for a long time. It was Sasuke's idea." Nodding, Sakura put the kettle on for tea. Sasuke hadn't wanted anything to do with the long history of crime that his family had. In that, Sakura was precisely the same. The Haruno family was, unfortunately, one of the most ruthless crime families in the country since her father took control. Before that, they were pretty laid-back for mobsters.

"Okay. So your family's going to go corporate, I suppose. That can't be what you're here for, since you apparently weren't intending to tell me. Were you just bored or something?" The man simply nodded, hoisting himself up onto the counter in the corner, right next to the toaster. She sighed. "Itachi, I have things to do."

He looked confused, and stared at her feet with a goofy grin. "You're going out in your bunny-feet?"

"No, you dope. I'm doing internet research today on something. I suppose you could say it's a favor for a couple of really nice guys." Now he was curious. Itachi cocked his head to one side, looking far too much like his younger brother. "You can't tell anyone about it, okay?" He nodded. She figured it was safe to tell him, since his family was going to be quitting the whole crime scene, and since he did not speak to her family at all anymore. Once she explained the situation with the rapier, he nodded.

"Did you train today?" The change of subject caught her off guard, but she answered in the affirmative. "Good. I'm going to take a nap now." He jumped down from the counter and shuffled off to the back of the apartment.

It took less than a minute and thirty seconds (during which Sakura stood frozen to the spot, still holding the teacups) for the tall, dark haired man to stalk back into the kitchen. Sakura winced. "Haruno Sakura." There was a very dark tone to his voice, and he seemed to have sobered considerably. "Your bed smells suspiciously like alcohol." After a short pause, during which he steadied himself, he said, "And sex."

"And?" She said, tone sharp, looking him straight in the eyes.

"And…I'm not trying to act like I'm your father, but I seem to remember you promising that you wouldn't drink."

"I had a bad day."

"So, you went out and got drunk, then brought someone home with you?" His voice was deadly calm, which set off alarms in her mind.

"Apparently, yes. I don't remember any of it." Her voice remained composed through the entire exchange, though Itachi was approaching the point of being livid. "Itachi, I was not intending to get wasted and sleep with every man in the place. And it isn't as though I never met the guy."

"Who is he?" Sakura didn't like Itachi's tone of voice. He sounded angry. It was so rare for him to even be annoyed that his anger was truly frightening. What was he so mad about? Not like she was the first—nor would she be the last—to have a one-night stand with someone she barely knew.

"Why do you need to know, Itachi?" She wasn't sure at all why she asked that, but the question seemed to throw him for a loop. After a long moment, he gripped the edge of the doorway, and spoke seriously, yet calmly.

"Please, just tell me, Sakura. I don't want you getting hurt."

"It's one of my boss's associates. His name is Kakashi."

Stray bits of hair fell over Itachi's face as he leaned his head on the doorframe. His voice came out as a bare whisper. "Sakura, please be careful. I really don't want you to hurt yourself." There was an odd hitch in his voice, which confused her. He sounded like he was about…to…cry. Blinking, she set down the cups in the sink, then walked over to where he was standing. When she stood in front of him, she found that there were faint, moist trails leading down from his eyes to the line of his jaw.

"Itachi, are you—"

He gave a small, sudden cough, and then scrubbed at his face with the back of his hand. Sakura bit her lip. He didn't look at her, but kept staring off over her right shoulder. "I…" he started, though his voice sounded as if he'd swallowed tacks. Clearing his throat, he began again. "I know that it's wrong…I shouldn't have let it happen. But when Sasuke died, Sakura, I let myself think much more of you. I…" The far off look on his face broke suddenly, and it almost seemed as if he was crumbling in on himself. "S-Sorry. I can't…" Turning more quickly than she thought possible, Itachi swept out of her kitchen, and back through the living room before she could stop him, and was gone.

What just happened? He had been about to say something important. And there was this little voice in the back of her mind that told her she really did something to hurt him. Sakura found herself sliding to the floor, her vision blurring. Why did she always have to fuck everything up so badly? The last thing she ever wanted was to hurt anyone. Especially not Itachi. He was always so understanding…so kind. He was the only person she could really turn to when she needed to talk. Sakura's arms encircled her knees, hugging them to her chest, and she buried her face in the soft black material of her pants.

Why was everything so out of control? Why?

Words from much earlier that day came back to her, and she felt herself mumbling them aloud. "God…give me the ability to deal with those things I can…the strength to bear those I can't…and the wisdom…to know the difference." For the first time in years, she found the need to actually talk to God. She felt very lost, indeed. Was there any other way in which her day could go wrong? All she was missing was being mugged. That would make her day complete.

Finally, after what had to be twenty minutes of sitting on her kitchen floor, Sakura hauled herself to her feet. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she went to her bedroom and changed into street clothes. She had to go and see Itachi. There was no way that she was going to let him run away from her. That was something that Sasuke would have done. He had always ignored his problems, turned a blind eye to anything that had gone wrong in his life. But Itachi had always faced them. Sakura would be damned if she would let her best friend, and Sasuke's only brother, close himself off the way she used to watch the other do. It was a painful thing to watch, but she knew that it was worse for the person internalizing all that pain.

As she stepped into the elevator to go down to the ground floor, she set a look of grim determination over her features. She would not let him run away.

--

Naruto sat in the car, waiting for Iruka to come out of the corner store. The man had this strange fondness for Fruit Stripe Gum, and he needed his fix. The young blonde detective shook his head, and looked idly into the rear-view mirror. Against the cool grays and blacks of the cityscape, he saw a flash of color. His head whipped around, following the blur. It was pink. When his eyes trained on it, he saw that it was Haruno Sakura. She was running. A black pea coat flapped around her, as did a long red scarf. Beneath the coat, he saw a dark green sweater, and she wore blue jeans and black sneakers. She looked as if she were upset.

Glancing at the store, he gnawed at his lip for a moment, then growled at his own stupidity. He just _knew_ this was a bad idea. But, that had never stopped him before. Exiting the car, he locked it. Iruka had keys. Naruto had his mobile with him, so if the older detective needed, he could call him. With one last look at the store, he ran after Sakura.

The woman was fast. She flew down the sidewalk, across the street, and down an alleyway. He soon found himself in a quieter street that was lined with early 1920's townhouses. Sakura ran full speed for another block-and-a-half, then skidded to a stop on an icy patch in front of one of these buildings, which was constructed of dark red brick, and had a copper roof. He slowed his pace, and hung back about half a block, noting the address. His eyes narrowed as she pounded on the door, that look of distress still drawing her features tight on her face. The portal opened, and she pushed her way inside.

--

"Genma…now, can't we talk about this?" Kakashi held up his hands in front of him, but it did no good. Shiranui Genma was quite angry with him, and he just happened to be the one holding a weapon, and not Kakashi. At the moment, the hit man was backed against the wall of the back office in The Rusty Dagger.

"I think you've said quite enough, Kakashi." Genma flicked his wrist, and the blade of the antique katana he held came far too close to Kakashi's neck. "So…what is it that you think we could talk about? The fact that you come barging in here, unannounced, and start raving about my choice of employees? Or maybe the fact that you _fucked_ her? Hell, maybe you want to talk about how you don't want to _die_?" That vein started pulsing in Genma's temple. It took every ounce of self-control in Kakashi's arsenal to keep himself from licking his lips nervously.

"But Genma…we were both drunk. She doesn't even remember it."

All expression left the man's face. _Oh, holy hell_. Kakashi swallowed audibly. The sharp edge of the blade was now touching his skin, and he thought he felt something warm running down his neck. "Hatake Kakashi, I'm only going to say this once. Are you listening?" The lack of any emotion on Genma's face, as well as in his voice worried Kakashi. When he did not answer, the man holding the sword to his throat spit out his ever-present toothpick. "I said, _are you listening to me, Kakashi_?"

"Y-Yes. I hear you loud and clear."

"Good. Like I said. Only once. Here it is: stay the hell away from her." Kakashi's eyebrows drew down, confusion painting his face. "I don't need to justify myself to you, do I?" Kakashi's eyes widened at the sudden anger in the other man's voice. The blade pressed to his flesh, and he felt it slicing into him. Every muscle in his body froze. Including his heart. When he finally realized that Genma would probably kill him if he didn't make some kind of answer, he shook his head, indicating that no excuse was necessary. Kakashi's compliance was rewarded with the blade being removed.

He watched in horrified fascination as Genma stepped back, and gave the sword one downward swipe, effectively flinging his blood from the blade. The soft sound of the sword being sheathed filled the air, and then the sword was placed back on its wall stand. Kakashi found something white flying at his face. He caught it. A handkerchief. "Go clean that up. The first aid kit's under the sink in the bathroom." Genma said quietly, still facing the wall, his back to Kakashi. Not needing to be told twice, Kakashi walked stiffly from the office. His heart was beating so fast he thought he might pass out. What the hell? He'd never been so scared in his life.

His assertion from earlier in the day came back to haunt him. Yeah. The worst day of his life. All that was left was for somebody to run over him as he walked across the street. Then, it would be the perfect end to a perfectly shitty day.

--

"Mr. Uchiha, a young lady is here to see you." The bored voice of Itachi's only servant said. The man was younger than himself. Something like twenty years old, perhaps. Itachi looked up from his book. He hadn't really been reading it. Unfocused eyes had been staring at the same page for nearly an hour. Now, he looked at Shikamaru, who was standing next to the door, waiting for permission to usher in the aforementioned guest.

"Who?" Was Itachi's faint response.

A slim—and highly sarcastic—brow rose. "The only one that has been to visit in the past year, sir." Itachi flinched. Why was she here? He felt suddenly deflated. Sakura was standing on the other side of the door. "Should I say you're ill, sir?" Itachi, from his seat near the fireplace, heard a very annoyed sound come from the other side of the door, just before it was thrown open without any thought for who might be standing in front of it. The butler's right left shoulder was violently shoved forward by the motion of the door, and he almost fell flat on his face.

Sakura apologized to him in short order, then hustled him out of the room. Itachi simply watched her, his face a mask of slightly horrified wonder. Then, she turned around, leaning on the door, apparently trying to make sure that Shikamaru did not interrupt whatever she had planned to do or say.

"Sakura, what are you doing here?"

Huffing loudly, she crossed her arms over her chest. "You…you're being a coward."

He might have been a little hazy from the drugs, still. Itachi wasn't sure he heard her correctly. "Excuse me?"

Sakura repeated herself, enunciating her words carefully. "You are being a coward, Itachi. Don't run away from me like that." What could he say to that? For a moment, he wished he had the energy to be affronted. But he didn't. Somewhere within himself, he knew she was telling the truth. His face was just as impassive as it nearly always was, though. Her eyes watched him, hawk-like. That piercing gaze unnerved him, and he looked away. Watching the flames, he concentrated on them, letting their elemental nature calm him slightly. Then he heard Sakura's footsteps as she crossed the room toward him.

Itachi could see her from the corner of his eye. She had knelt next to the arm of his chair. When he felt her hand cover his where it rested on his book, his eyes closed, trying to block out the sensation, and the feelings it caused. It did nothing to quell his conflicting thoughts. Pulling his hand away, he whispered, "Sakura, please…don't…" still not looking in her direction.

"Damn it, Itachi, look at me!" Her voice rose to a near-shout.

When he finally turned to see her, Itachi found that he could not look away. She was kneeling there, glaring green fire at him, those flames being snuffed at the same time by tears in her eyes. "What's wrong? Itachi, talk to me." Her voice broke, and came out hoarse, "Did I do something wrong? You're angry with me, aren't you?" He smiled faintly. Should he tell the truth? Did he even know what the truth was? Sakura's eyes searched his face, just as his did hers, and for a long moment, neither of them spoke.

The silence was broken by nothing more than the crackling of maple logs in the fire. It was painful to look at her. He didn't want to be doing this. The last thing he wanted at the moment was to admit to what he was feeling. It wasn't right. It was…well, it was less than honorable. "I…" he shut his eyes. If he didn't look at her, he thought this might go a little easier. "Yes."

"W-what?" She said, sniffling. Itachi's brow furrowed. He really didn't want to look at her now. He never could stand to watch her cry.

"Yes, Sakura. I am angry." He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "I'm angry that you let yourself be put in a situation like that. It's something that makes me feel…like I can't protect you."

He could hear her shifting slightly before she said, "I can take care of myself, you know that."

"I know, Sakura. If you couldn't, I wouldn't have broken bones and dislocated joints because of you. But that's not what I'm talking about. I'm pretty sure you know that." When he finally opened his eyes, he saw her looking down at the floor. "Sakura, you need to be careful. I don't want you hurting yourself. If you do what you did last night, it will hurt you more, emotionally, than anything else." She nodded, and he was sure she realized what kind of hurt he was meaning.

"But…what were you saying before? You said something about Sasuke, and I didn't really understand. What did you mean? What were you going to say?" That was the one question that he did not want to answer. He had hoped that he could get around it. Itachi had even said a small prayer. Now, he was faced with the question, and he hesitated again. She was not going to back off until she got an answer.

Sighing, he said, finally, "You know that father asked me to look out for you?" She nodded. "He was worried. We all were. I suppose that I worried a little too much. After a while, I think I started feeling a bit too protective of you."

"Itachi—"

He held up a hand, silencing her. Now that he had started, he needed to finish. The words were pressing to be let out. "I thought, for a while, that maybe I had just started thinking of you as a little sister. Sort of…as a substitute for Sasuke. But that isn't _quite_ right. What I feel for you is not right. It isn't at all proper, Sakura. Do you understand what I'm trying to tell you?" Her eyes had grown wide. She was staring at him, eyes glazed, as if she had never seen him before. "Sakura?" He leaned toward her, bringing his face down to her eye-level. "Sakura, are you alright?"

Sakura mumbled, "F-fine. I'm fine…" Itachi winced. The 'f-word'. Never a good sign.

His fingers reached out, brushing away a rosy strand of hair from her cheek. That contact seemed to stir her from whatever thoughts she was immersed in, and she looked up at him, startled, with a slight blush heating her face. His heart beat faster, and his eyes strayed to her lips. They were only slightly parted, as if she were on point of saying something. Against his better judgment, he leaned forward just a bit more, his lips ghosting over hers, so lightly that he could barely feel them.

Sakura's eyes widened in alarm. He could hear her breath catch. Something made him pull away; it was probably his over-developed sense of honor. Standing suddenly, he said, "I apologize." He looked out of the window, unable to stand the expression of wide-eyed amazement on her face. "I should not have done that. I'm sorry."

If he thought that he was standing stiffly before, then he could have given trees a good run for their proverbial money when he felt Sakura's arms wrap around his waist, her face pressing into his chest. His heart felt as if it were going to jump out of his chest. That less than honorable feeling was back. Why did life have to be so complicated? All he wanted was to put his arms around her and hold her. But there was still that old voice, saying that it wasn't right. She was still that one thing he could never have. It was the only way he could be sure that Sasuke wouldn't be angry with him, wherever he was.

Itachi tried to pry her off of him, but she just held him tighter. "It's okay," she said softly, and looked up at him, her chin resting on his chest. "There's nothing wrong with it, Itachi." He blinked down at her. What was she saying? "No one can help the way they feel."

His jaw set stubbornly. "But I _have_ to."

"Why?"

One word escaped his lips before he finally shoved her away, "Sasuke." When he found the strength to finally look at her again, he saw her crying. Again. Twice he'd made her cry today. _Damn it._ He hated seeing her tears. A sudden, hot feeling formed in the pit of his stomach, and he found that he was slightly dizzy with it. It was fear, mixed with an ache that would not be ignored. Something in him broke then, and he moved forward, pulling Sakura into a tight embrace, heedless of his injured arm. The force of the emotion rising in him was such that he could not stop it. Sakura looked up at him, smiling. For a moment, that smile lit up the whole world. He felt like if he tried, he would be able to fly.

"Sakura…" He said, but couldn't think of what he meant to say. All he saw was her smiling face, and her voice echoed in his ears, telling him that it was all right. She told him that there was nothing wrong with the way he felt. Could he dare to believe? Sakura certainly could never return his feelings…but maybe, just for a moment…he could fool himself. Lowering his face to hers, he breathed in the smell of her, the sweet scent of lemon and ginger. Itachi's eyes slid closed as he felt her lips, warm against his, in a chaste kiss. It felt as if he were dying. And he didn't care. For all he did care, he could die right then, and he would be happy. After a moment, he pulled away from her, resting his forehead on hers. "I love you…"

Her hands found his face, holding him there. Their small, firm warmth made him feel the reality of the situation. "Itachi, open your eyes." He did, and he saw her eyes, mere inches away from his own, so that they seemed to fill his vision. "Itachi, you know I love you. But—"

Suddenly, he felt ill. He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat. "Don't, Sakura, please." Turning away from her, he went to the table against the wall, pouring himself a glass of water. "I know. Again, I apologize."

"You have nothing to be sorry for." Her voice drifted across the room just as he took a sip from the glass. When he heard this, he was suddenly angry. Setting the glass down hard on the table, he turned back to her.

"Yes I do." He moved to stand before her again. "I feel that I do, Sakura. You're much more to me than a sister, a student. That's not right. Damn it," He took hold of her shoulders, "I'm not _supposed_ to want you!" Sakura's eyes went wide, and he saw pain in them. He hurt her. Again. Why could he do nothing right? He could feel things spiraling out of control. All of his carefully laid barriers were crashing down around him, and all he had to hold onto was something that he couldn't keep.

Sakura's mouth hung open, and she merely stared at him. Then, he let her go. "Get out."

"What?" She asked, half-breathless.

"I said, _get out, Sakura_." His hand rose, pointing to the door. "I can't be around you right now." Eyes closing to block out the painful image of her face, Itachi kept his voice tightly controlled. "I can't be sure that I'll be able to restrain myself." He felt like he stood there for too long, waiting for her to move. It had surely been an entire minute. When he did hear her shifting position, it was to move toward him. Sakura's arms were around his waist again before he could stop her, and she squeezed so hard he thought she might give him another broken rib.

"Sasuke wouldn't be angry with you," was all she said before letting go and leaving the room. When he opened his eyes, he found that he was gripping the mantle piece, his nails digging into the dark walnut carvings. What he wouldn't give for that to be true.

---

**A/N:** Grrrr. I hate the editing engine. The lack of separation bar is getting on my nerves. Please, take a moment to review. This chapter was emotionally draining to write, so I would love it if you gave me some happy-time to read constructive criticism!

Love! to everyone.


	4. Suspicious Minds

**A/N:** Hey! I'm back you guys! Thanks for waiting for me...or if you're just starting to read, then greetings. After a long, long wait, here's the next bit of _Loose Ends_. I am on my knees, begging forgiveness, by the way. I'm trying to finish as many of my stories as I can. Hope you like this chapter.

**Warnings:**

**FL--**Foul Language

**Loose Ends**

**Chapter 4: **Suspicious Minds

* * *

It was less than fifteen minutes before she came back out of the house. Naruto watched her as she walked slowly and distractedly, a strangely sad expression in her green eyes. She walked toward him, not noticing anything around her. What had gone on in that house? Should he call out to her? Lord knew he wanted to. But he knew that, by all means, he should most certainly not do any such thing. The fact that he had followed her there was bad enough. That he knew who her family was…well, that could be a problem. He was certain that Haruno Kosuke would not take kindly to his daughter associating with a police officer. 

Everything about the situation screamed out to him as a bad idea. Uzumaki Naruto was not a stupid man, by any means, but when he had his heart set on something, well, you could say that his brain got overridden by what his more sensitive side wanted. That was not to say that he was at all slick about it.

So, when she was about five feet from him, he stuffed his hands in his pockets, and whistled a tune casually, hitting a high note just as he came even with her, and his shoulder grazed hers. "Oh…sorry…" She said, turning around to face him. Recognition dawned in her eyes after a moment, and he smiled at her brightly, hoping to dispel some of her obvious worry. "Detective Uzumaki! What are you doing here?"

Hmm. Interesting question indeed. Naruto did a little quick thinking, but really, he could come up with nothing that sounded plausible. He scrubbed at his hair nervously, and wished that he were able to think. What was it about pretty girls that made him all fidgety and stupid? Hell, he was having trouble thinking of his own name right now. "I…um…well, you see…"

Sakura poked his chest, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "You were following me, weren't you?" His eyes grew large at the accusation, which was as good as an admission of guilt. He sagged where he stood and nodded. "Why?"

Shrugging despairingly, he said, "Saw you a few streets over. You just looked really upset, so…" She was eying him suspiciously now. He sighed loudly in defeat. "I only wanted to make sure you were okay, Ms. Haruno. Sorry. I'll go now." He turned on his heel, and started walking back the way he came. Not three steps later, her small hand fell on the thick wool of his coat. He turned to see her green eyes staring at him in understanding, and it was all he could do not to grin like an absolute fool.

"It's perfectly all right. Just could you not do that lame whistle-and-bump routine? That's way too obvious." Her eyes sparkled with mischief.

Nodding, he gave a small snort. "Well. I suppose that it is. But you're sure you're okay?" He wanted to make sure before he left her. He was still on duty, and he _did_ have to leave her soon. Sakura gave him a nod, and a reassuring smile. Her eyes did seem a bit sad, still. "Why don't I walk you home? I know you say you're fine, but I think you're still upset." The woman looked away from him, which told him he was correct. Naruto gently took her arm, and gave a little tug. "Come on, Ms. Haruno. I don't want you getting mugged on your way home. This is a dangerous place, you know."

When she looked back up at him, it was dubiously. Sakura followed, albeit reluctantly. They walked in silence, both lost in their thoughts. Then, after he felt the tension in the air building for nearly a full minute, as she seemed to struggle for the will to speak, Sakura said, "Detective, can I ask—"

"Naruto. Please."

Smiling distractedly, she said, "_Naruto_, can I ask you something?"

"You may, Ms. Haruno." He watched her from the corner of his eye. She was highly agitated, and her fingers had begun fidgeting with the edge of her sweater.

"Okay, if I get to call you by your name, then you should call me Sakura." He gave a nod, then gestured for her to continue, which she did. "Well, I was wondering…if someone you cared very much for told you that their feelings for you were…more than what you felt, what would you do?" This took him by surprise. Who had told her this? Certainly, it had been someone in the house she'd just come from. It made him a little sad. He was sure that if he had been the one in question, he would have been devastated at her denial. This woman was beautiful, intelligent, had a great sense of humor, and even wonderful taste in animal slippers.

"Hmm. I'm not sure. How close are you to this person?"

"He's my best friend. I love him, just…not that way." Her eyes were focused on the sidewalk, and she looked very sad. It was almost as if she wished that she could return the sentiment, but knew that it would never be possible. Naruto frowned.

"Then I suppose there's nothing for it. You two will just have to work it out, won't you? I mean, he's your best friend, right? He'll forgive you." He hoped his cheerful tone would convince her, but it was a vague and distant kind of hope that he was very unsure of. Sakura was frowning now. "Hey, now…don't look like that, Sakura…please? It looks like you're gonna cry…" When she sniffled and turned her head away, he knew he'd put his foot in his mouth. Naruto kicked himself mentally. "Damn it…I'm sorry, Sakura. Please don't cry."

She stopped dead, and looked up at him, newly formed wet trails running down her face. There was a sharp pain in his stomach when he looked at her. Why did she have to look so sad? And why did he feel like it was hurting him to look at her? Before he could stop himself, he put an arm around her, and pulled her against his left side. "Just remember, Sakura…" His voice was low, and he leaned down as she put her head against his shoulder, placing a peck of a kiss on her head, "…that which does not kill us, makes us stronger." She looked up at him, confused. "Let's just get you home, right?"

* * *

Uzumaki Naruto was a very strange, very kind man, Sakura decided. He had followed her, which was a little creepy, until she found out why. Now, she was inclined to believe that Sasuke would have liked Naruto in spite of himself. He was the kind of man that Sasuke developed a grudging respect for. And she was glad to know that. Now, he was standing with her, at her apartment door, stammering an excuse for having to leave, and she was trying not to smile. 

"I think maybe Iruka might be a little pissed…I kind of left while he was in the Stop-n-Shop…So I guess I'll see you around?" He fidgeted with his tie, which was bright orange silk. Sakura's smile finally got through. He was just too silly for his own good.

"Sure. You're still going to fix my door, yes?"

"Oh!" He smacked his own forehead quite hard, the slapping sound echoing in the hall. "Yes, I will. When do you want me to come and do that?"

"How about tomorrow afternoon? Say…four o'clock? And I'll make a pot of tea, just for you." Her lips were curved into a smile, which she had been trying not to allow, but it was so _hard_ not to smile at him. He was just like…a bumbling ray of sunshine. Yes. That was an apt description.

And that little ray of sunshine smiled back, dazzlingly bright, before his cellular phone began to ring, and he let out a muffled oath. He gave her a quick hug, and ran off, yelling over his shoulder, "I'll be here, four sharp!" Sakura chuckled. He was funny. Turning back to her door, which was still only partially functioning, she had to wonder about him. What could have caused him to break her door in? Sure, she'd been training, and because of that, she might have sounded like she was struggling, but for him to be that worried over someone he had never met before? There had to be an over-developed sense of honor or something involved.

Over-developed sense of honor…why did all the men she knew outside her family seem to have those?

* * *

"Naruto, that was very irresponsible." Iruka said as he tapped his foot under the table. The younger detective was sitting across from him, eating the biggest, cheesiest slice of pizza known to man. "Naruto? Naruto, are you even listening to me?" 

Munching happily, the blonde man said around his pizza, "Yesh, I'm lishening. What wush irreshponshuble?" Naruto laughed at his own folly, and swallowed the pizza. Shrugging, he said, "What? I mean, you had keys, and it wasn't like I was doing anything wrong. I'm interested in her case, not just her."

Iruka rolled his eyes. He should have known. "You mean to tell me that you're going to try and solve the Uchiha murder?" The snort that came from him didn't do anything to lighten the glare he was now getting from Naruto. "Look, kid, I don't know what kind of skills you've got. I don't even pretend to have half of your smarts, but for crying out loud…that case is unsolved _for a reason_. There are some really heavy hitters behind it, and I don't want to go down because I got curious."

Naruto froze in the act of taking a bit of his pizza. His too-wide blue eyes blinked in assumed innocence. "Iruka, I'm surprised at you. I don't care if I have to do it on my own time, or on the weekends I don't work. I'm going to deal with the murder of Uchiha Sasuke, whether you like it or not. What're you gonna do? Report me for trying to solve a murder?" This was what Iruka didn't like about Naruto: once he got an idea in his head, you couldn't dislodge it to save your life. He was one of those people that always went through with his promises, but it got him in more trouble than it was worth at times.

The older detective sighed. "So you're not going to let me change your mind?"

"Snowball's chance in hell, Iruka." Naruto took another enormous bite of pizza, grinning like a Cheshire cat.

"And I take it you're still going to 'fix her door'?" Iruka's tone was a little suggestive at that, causing Naruto to roll his eyes. "Hey, you're the one diving in head first, kiddo. I'm just gonna sit back and watch you splat in the empty pool." Naruto frowned around his pizza, and Iruka laughed. "All right, all right. I won't talk about it anymore. But if you want to do this, you're going to have to get all of the evidence from storage. You've never worked a cold case before, so I'll walk you through the paperwork."

Blue eyes brightened, and somehow, Naruto looked much younger than he was. "Thanks, Iruka! You're a great partner!" Iruka leaned on his elbows, watching Naruto eating sloppily. In spite of all his misgivings, his better judgment, and common sense, he had become rather fond of the loud detective. He was rather like the younger brother he never had. Or wanted…but who was counting?

Sitting back in his chair, Iruka sipped his coffee. "Someone's gotta keep you from getting killed, kid." Naruto didn't really hear him; he just kept munching on his pizza. How the man never got any sauce on his shirt, Iruka would never understand.

* * *

_Ring…Ring…_

"Hello? Uchiha residence, Mrs. Uchiha speaking."

"Put the bastard on."

"Excuse me?"

"I said, put your husband on the phone, Mikoto."

"Hello?"

"Fugaku…I've heard some very disturbing news."

"And what is that, Kosuke?"

"I've heard that you are getting out of the business. Is that true?"

"Yes."

"You always were a pussy."

"No. I'm not. I just don't want to lose any more family members."

"Is that so?"

"Yes it is. My son has taken care of everything, and we'll be forming UchihaCorp in a few weeks."

"That's good. If he's occupied with your new business interests, then he won't have time to fuck with my daughter."

"_I beg your pardon_, Kosuke? What are you talking about?"

"Hehe. Don't worry about it, Uchiha. Just keep that bean-counting son of yours away from my baby girl."

_Click. Buzzzzzz…_

* * *

The enormous evidence storage warehouse was the same as he remembered it: cold and silent. Iruka looked at the numbers on the paper in his hand. Row 26, shelf 4. Case number U65274-1. Naruto stood next to him as the lights came on. It was strange, the surge that came with the sodium arc lamps. It was like little pops of light, growing in intensity until they were bathed in slightly pinkish or bluish light that made them look like walking corpses. 

"This place gives me the creeps," Naruto muttered, fiddling with some change in his pocket. Iruka smiled to himself and popped a piece of gum into his mouth.

He turned to the right, and began walking at a brisk pace. "Come on, kiddo." He called over his shoulder to his partner, who moved quickly to catch up. "Okay. Here's the deal. There are two boxes. So you'd better be ready to carry them, because this is your baby." Naruto nodded in agreement. It was his fault for getting all starry-eyed around Sakura, and for being so interested in unsolved murder cases.

"This is it, Iruka." Naruto pointed to the row they were looking for, and took off down the aisle, looking over the case numbers on the boxes. Halfway to the other end, he stopped. "Get that ladder, okay?" Iruka grabbed the indicated ladder, and they set up to get the boxes. When the second box was handed down, Naruto blinked. "There are boxes behind those. Jesus, man. You know, I think Jimmy Hoffa is in here, somewhere."

The senior detective snorted. "Yeah, well, if he is, I don't wanna be the one to find him. Can you imagine what the decomp would have done to that body by now?" Naruto's face was enough to make him not care that he had a spasm in his back when he took the second box. "So…when did you want to start work on this?"

Naruto chuckled behind him. "You got anything better to do tonight?"

Iruka smiled wryly. Shaking his head, he said, "Your place, okay? It's bigger, and you have quieter neighbors."

"Sure thing. Bring some snacks, though. I'm out." Naruto was mooching again. Why was it that a kid that had more money than God, a brain that could do complex mathematics without paper or a calculator, and a double-degree never could get his ass to the grocery store? Snorting, he dumped the boxes on Naruto and then made his way up to the front desk.

"Heya, Mort." Iruka flashed his badge again, so that Morton Scott could take down his number, and Naruto did the same. The overweight clerk gave a snort and pushed his glasses up his nose with a beefy finger, jotting these numbers down, along with the numbers on the boxes they were checking out. "See ya, Mort." Iruka shot the man a little wave, and they were gone.

* * *

It was precisely four o'clock when she heard a knock at the halfway operational door. Sakura smiled. "Who is it?!" she yelled from the other side of the living room. 

A muffled voice came in through the cracks around the wooden planking. "It's Naruto! Can I come in?"

* * *

"So? Who is he?" A man sitting in a shining black Lincoln Continental asked while sipping on a Styrofoam cup of black coffee. His dark eyes were focused on the doors of Haruno Sakura's apartment building, where a blonde-haired man had entered just a moment earlier. His partner lifted an eyebrow. 

Dark brown hair swayed, just above shoulder length, as the other man adjusted his garish tie. "You mean to tell me you don't know who that guy is? What are you, a moron?"

"Bite me, Izumo. Just tell me." Hagane Kotetsu scratched at the small patch of stubble that was his only facial hair to speak of. He was at least lucky that it was a goatee, and not like his father with those terrible side-burns.

Izumo gestured with his Styrofoam cup toward the building as he pulled out a little notebook. "He's Uzumaki Naruto. Twenty-two years old, naturalized American citizen. Originally from England, and adopted by a Japanese couple at the age of three when his parents died in a plane crash. He kept his original name—Martin Carrington—until he was thirteen, when he changed it legally. Something to do with his adopted mother. He graduated NYU at the age of fifteen with a dual degree in psychology and criminal justice. Father, Joshua Carrington, former head of Scotland Yard, mother Irene Carrington, a stockbroker in London. Adoptive parents: Uzumaki Hito and Uzumaki Kaoru. He's one of the youngest detectives in the history of the New York Police Department. You wanna know anything else about him?"

Kotetsu stared at his friend before snatching the notebook away. "Where the hell did you find all that bullshit?"

"I have to find all the info I can on potential threats. Boss's orders." Izumo grabbed the little notepad away from Kotetsu and folded it up, placing it into the pocket of his cheap brown suit. "Never mind what he's been. I wanna know what he's doing in her apartment."

"You think we might need to bug the place like we did the Uchiha's?"

Izumo grinned. "Couldn't hurt."

* * *

Naruto rolled up his sleeves. After he'd put his things on the entry table, he had called down to the front desk for the maintenance department. The guy had come up directly, with the tools and supplies Naruto needed to fix the door. Sakura was in her kitchen, and he heard dishes clinking as she made tea. As he began to work, he wondered just how much Sakura knew about the case. He didn't want to ask her, though. If it had been him, and _his_ fiancé that had gotten bumped off, it would be a sore spot. 

Who could have benefited from Uchiha Sasuke's death? There was no will involved, or any insurance money, so that was not an issue. According to the background notes on the victim, he hadn't been very popular with his professors, or his fellow classmates, but there was nothing there that was worth killing him over. Sakura was innocent, he was sure. She showed all the signs of traumatic loss. While she hadn't slipped into deep depression, it was obvious from the dojo and the martial arts paraphernalia lying about that she had very specific ideas about the way her fiancé died. Sakura was gearing up for revenge, if she ever found out who killed Sasuke.

Which led him back to square one. He hefted the hammer, deep in thought, then proceeded to miss the nail he was aiming for and hit his thumb instead. "Bugger!" He yelled, dropping the tool, and shaking his hand like mad. Sakura came into the room just then, a cup of tea in her hand.

"You okay, Naruto?"

He smiled in a strained sort of way, and took the cup. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Just spaced out for a minute, there. A lot on my mind, is all."

Sakura took the hammer away, and handed him his tea. "Take a short break. I'll get some ice for that." Her chin tilted toward his hand, upon which the thumb was becoming an angry red, and he was pretty sure there was some purple in there, too. As he sat down on a nearby chair, Naruto thought a bit more. There were a few possibilities that he had been unwilling to consider about the Uchiha murder. Now, perhaps, would be a good time to start thinking of them. For instance, professors and students were not the only ones who weren't fans of the deceased. As he understood it, Sakura's parents had not been happy about their daughter's upcoming marriage.

If the boy were to suddenly wake up dead, then so much the better for them, and Naruto frowned to himself at the thought. It would certainly complicate things if there were evidence to support that theory. But as it turned out, he was in the perfect position to investigate it, since he was on the organized crime task force. _First thing first_, he thought, _I have to go through the forensic evidence_. And once he'd done that, he could figure out what direction to take the investigation.

"Here you are," Sakura handed him a plastic baggie filled with ice, and he thanked her distractedly. After a few minutes more of applying the ice to his swollen thumb, it was feeling a bit better, so he got started once again fixing the doorjamb. When he had applied the new locking mechanism to the door, and was screwing it in place, Naruto heard Sakura start beating on the heavy-bag. For a long moment, he watched her. On the day he'd met her, he assumed her kicks were strong. It appeared that he was correct. But she was a little off-balance, and hopped back a bit each time she kicked the bag.

He sighed, taking a sip of his tea and setting it down again. "You're standing wrong," he said offhandedly, fitting the new lock plate in the jamb and wiggling it until it stayed in the square cutout in the wood.

"Reeeally?" Sakura asked, sounding sarcastic. Naruto nodded, not looking at her, and using the electric screwdriver to secure the lock plate. "Well how _should_ I be standing, then?" She said this after the high-pitched whine of the screwdriver died away. Naruto lay the drill down, and then pulled off his shoes before he walked over and stepped up onto the mat.

Bowing lightly to Sakura, and then to the picture of her sensei—which he noticed looked much like Uchiha Sasuke—on the opposite wall, he paid his respects to the principal users of the makeshift dojo. Naruto then moved forward, standing as he would if he were going to kick the bag. "You're putting weight on your toes. That's why you hop. If you distribute your weight evenly over your foot, then you'll have a firmer base." He demonstrated with one kick, then another. "Try." Sakura did, but still hopped. After a moment, he noticed that her hip was also not in the right position when she delivered her kick. Instructing her in the mechanics of the action, he tried to be as impersonal as possible when he positioned her hips as they should be. "Now try that again."

This time, Sakura hit the bag solidly, and her foot remained planted in the floor. Her face split in a wide grin. "Thanks." Naruto went back to fixing the door, which only needed to be put back on its hinges. "Naruto?"

"Yeah?" He asked, hefting the door and easing it back into the hinges.

"Do you think you'd like to spar with me?"

He frowned a bit as he greased the hinge pins. "I don't know about that. What would your sensei think if I started taking up your training time?"

Sakura flapped a hand at him. "He's not going to be training with me for a while, yet. I broke three of his ribs and pulled his arm out of socket." Naruto didn't know if he _wanted_ to spar with her, now that he knew what she was capable of. Once he thought about it, her sensei was Uchiha Itachi, Sasuke's brother. That guy was all kinds of scary. He had tournament titles coming out of his ears, and _years_ of experience. How had she gotten one up on him? And did Naruto _really_ want to put himself in a position to be in the same shape?

Reluctantly, he said, "I can spar with you a couple of times," and then started tapping the top hinge pin with a ball-peen hammer to get it back in. When that one was in, he scratched his cheek and looked at Sakura from the corner of his eye. "But you're going to have to promise not to break any of _my_ bones. I need them." Sakura giggled a bit, and then took his now-empty teacup to refill it. Naruto wondered what he was getting himself into. In any event, he would be able to test his father's techniques against Itachi's.

* * *

Uchiha Itachi sat in his living room, feet up on the coffee table, studying the pale green wallpaper. His shoulder throbbed angrily, and Shikamaru had just told him that his stock of Vikaden had run out. Oh, it was a _beautiful_ day. He was decently sure that he didn't want to set foot outside of his apartment for another fifteen years after what had happened with Sakura last week, but he had to, because he had _work_ to do. He heard the doorbell. Half praying that it was (and half that it wasn't) Sakura, he watched the door to the room where he sat, waiting for his butler to announce the newest of his interlopers. 

Yesterday, it had been his mother, fussing over his injuries. The day before, it was his cousin, Shishui, who was 'just popping by' to see if he had eaten. The guy was always a worrywart, but he also seemed to have a sixth sense for when Itachi was depressed. Ten minutes after a coincidental phone call, the tall, grave man was at his door. That had been a painful conversation, because there was no way that he could keep any secrets from those dark, probing eyes. And the day before that, it was his father, to check up on him and see if his shoulder was healing. When the door opened, it was not Shikamaru. His father had apparently decided that he would just let the butler relax. Now, the man looked even more worried than Shishui had.

He moved swiftly to where his son now sat, and deposited himself nearby on the couch. "Itachi," he began, "I have something…rather upsetting to tell you." He was being very careful with his words, Itachi knew. It seemed that there was going to be something worse than the events that had thrown him into a funk that he had no hope of getting out of. "I know that you are upset over something, and even if you don't want to tell your mother and me about it, just know that we understand."

Itachi leaned his head back against the dark brown leather of the couch back. "Dad," he blurted, "I have a problem." His father's frown deepened. "You know, I really tried not to let it happen. I did. But it was so hard, being around her every day, seeing her struggle with herself, becoming her friend." Itachi's face twitched into a grimace of internal pain. He took a deep breath, steadying his voice even as his hands shook where they lay in his lap. "I love her, Dad."

Fugaku did not need to be told who 'she' was. There was only one woman in his son's life, as he was well aware. One large, heavy hand fell on Itachi's good shoulder, and his father's deep, reassuring voice said, "I know you do." Itachi blinked, and looked questioningly at his father. "Anyone that has seen the two of you…we all know, son. And none of us blame you. We love her as if she were already our own daughter. Sakura will always have a place with us, and she knows that. But this will make what I have to say so much harder to bear, I fear."

Again, Itachi looked askance at Fugaku, not comprehending what he meant. And then the blow came. "Her father has made…threats. He has all but said that if you don't stay away from Sakura, you'll meet with an untimely death. I'm sorry, Itachi." The hand on his shoulder squeezed, and Itachi made a pained sound. This was the last thing he had expected. He had known that Haruno Kosuke didn't like his brother, but apparently, his animosity was universal for the entire Uchiha family.

A bitter laugh barked from his throat. "Why does this fail to surprise me?" His father shook his head, and replied that there would be nothing surprising unless you never met Kosuke. Itachi made a face, and his voice darkened, "You know, if we were still in the business, this might be easy to deal with."

Fugaku laughed a little. "Yes, but how would that honor your brother's memory? We're doing this for him, aren't we?" Itachi nodded. It _had_ been Sasuke's idea to go straight and become a family that was dedicated to doing something productive, rather than extorting money from people, or killing those that did not do as they liked. Fugaku saw this thought process going on in his son's eyes, apparently, because he changed the subject suddenly. "And…since I mentioned your brother…I was at the police station today…"

Itachi started. "What…what were you doing _there_?"

His father smiled slightly. "You remember my old friend, Detective Ramirez?" Itachi nodded, remembering a large man of Spanish descent, with a bushy mustache and a very big gun. Fugaku had gone to school with him. "Well…he said that there's this kid. He's the youngest detective I've ever heard of. Twenty-two years old. And he's taken an interest in Sasuke's murder. Apparently, he's got a bug in his ear, and he wants the case solved."

"They've re-opened the case?" Itachi sat up straight, his eyes peering keenly at his father, who just shrugged.

"I don't think it's official. The kid is a bit of a loose cannon, from what I understand. He does things his own way, which tends to be a bit unorthodox, but I also understand that he has never failed to solve a case. Ramirez even said that this kid took down three dirty cops that were on O'Reilly's payroll." Fugaku had his undivided attention now. If this kid detective was as good as these rumors made him out to be, then what was to stop the case from being solved? Then again, his father could only be telling him this to get his mind off of Sakura…but if they could only find the truth…it would bring the family—and Sakura—so much peace!

Nodding to himself, he said, "Do you have any way to contact this Ramirez?"

"I can call him…why do you need to talk to George?"

Itachi was now getting up carefully from the couch, and heading for the door that led to the stairs. He turned back to look at his father, hooking a sheet of dark hair behind his ear. "Because I want him set up a meeting with this kid. I want to talk to the man who is going to bring closure to this mess."

* * *

**Chapter End Notes:**  
I hope you enjoyed it! Thanks for reading, and stick around for the next chapter! 


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